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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453827">Wind in the In Between</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraneous_accessories/pseuds/extraneous_accessories'>extraneous_accessories</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson &amp; Dave Wolverton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mountain Men AU, mysterious spy au, they just deserve nice things</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:49:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>42,270</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26453827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraneous_accessories/pseuds/extraneous_accessories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Winter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>"As the snow fell softly on our heads/It seemed to tell of something that was dead"</i><br/>-Red Moon Road, Seasons</p>
<p><b>I. </b><br/>Qui Gon always avoided any entanglements. It was part of his job, something that was drilled into them at CCIS from day one. No attachments, and  if you have them, you never say a word-not one damn word-about work. They ask you how your day was, you say 'fine dear, how was yours?' and nothing else.</p>
<p>In all his time in service, he had never found the rule difficult to obey, which was what had made meeting the honest, open-hearted new server at the Holy Ghost so strange. Something about the atmosphere of the abandoned church had appealed to him since he had arrived. There was the sense of everything ending, of ties being cut, a rebellious hope in the colour of the place, each antique fighting hard against the gloom. When he was at his most poetic, it reminded him of himself. He had made it a daily habit to walk down from his cabin on the hill for his morning coffee and a read of the paper. There was rarely anything of interest in the paper, but he liked the sense of having a routine. He had established a perfectly amiable rapport with the sullen girl that manned the counter. She treated him with the bare minimum of civility, and he responded with taciturnity and found it an even trade. </p>
<p>With the winter, however, his routine was turned on its head. The wind blew like ice through the pass that day, and the sky was a uniform iron grey. His breath fogged ahead of him as he stepped into the old church and he shivered. The long walk from his cabin had been a pleasure in the height of summer, and even into the fall, but today his breath came short and his side ached. Even worse, there was a new face behind the bar. It was an older face, with a faded blonde beard and sparkling blue eyes. The sudden change in staffing put him on his guard, but he gave his customary thin smile and was greeted with a wide grin.</p>
<p>"What can I get for you today?"</p>
<p>Somewhat taken aback, he ordered a black coffee. He had grown accustomed to his routine with the girl, which was cemented in the rule of ‘least communication possible’. This fellow didn’t seem to know the rules, nor did he read Qui Gon’s increasingly bristling demeanour as a signal to stop talking. He chattered on about the weather, how rough it was on the cattle here in the pass, and how glad he was to have something extra to do in the winters that helped to pass the time between chores and chores.</p>
<p>"But it's still God's country, I'll say that," the smile had not left his face, and it widened as he passed Qui Gon his coffee. "Can't think of a better place to live."</p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded and took refuge at a corner table, glad of the respite and thoroughly unsettled. The coffee warmed him, settling into his bones and relieving a little of the tension. It was an added comfort to observe that the new barman seemed to give the same revolting amount of courtesy to every customer that walked through the door. It made him feel better, knowing that he hadn't been singled out for some special consideration.</p>
<p>He finished his coffee in record time, but forced himself to peruse the paper. He wasn’t going to let sudden and unwelcome change put him out of his routine. He scanned each page with care, noting the births and deaths recorded in the classifieds, skimming the paragraphs from the churches, schools, and various community organizations. The monotony of it lulled him back into a better sense of himself and, by the time he had finished the crossword and sudoku on the back page, he felt ready for his return journey up the hill. </p>
<p>It was his misfortune, or so he thought at the time, that it was shift change when he set out. He had never paid close attention to the time of his departure, and wouldn’t have done today if the attractive blonde barman hadn’t been walking out the staff door just as he had shoved his gloved hands deep into his pockets and begun his walk. </p>
<p>He tried his best to ignore the slow rumble as a pickup truck slowed down near to an idle beside him. The window wound down, however, and even he wasn't impolite enough to keep walking. He looked up to see the barman's face drawn tight in a frown of concern.</p>
<p>"You'd better get in here, friend, it's pushing thirty below."</p>
<p>It was a question, but only barely. Qui Gon hesitated.</p>
<p>"Look, there's no sense freezing your ass off just for the pride of being tough about it," the man insisted. "Just get in, I'll take you the rest of your way, no trouble."</p>
<p>The offer was earnest, and the wind was very cold. Qui Gon still might have refused, but his side twinged with pain and he gave in and climbed into the battered Ford. </p>
<p>"Up on the hill," he said, when asked for directions.</p>
<p>"Good stuff. I'm Obi Wan, by the way, Obi Wan Kenobi. I live on the ranch just below you here," the barman pointed to a gravel driveway that disappeared into the trees in the valley.</p>
<p>"Looks like a nice place," Qui Gon murmured.</p>
<p>"I like it," Obi Wan said with a shrug. "So you're new to the area?"</p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded. "Been here since July."</p>
<p>"Well shit, I can't believe that! We're practically neighbours and I didn't even know. You've got to come for dinner sometime soon."</p>
<p>It was said with a kind of finality that Qui Gon was used to hearing from army officers and, although he had lived under cover for years, making up lies for every possible contingency, he found himself unable to come up with a reason that he couldn't go to dinner.</p>
<p>The plain fact was, he considered as he watched the old Ford trundle down the mountain road, he was lonely. Now that summer had faded into winter, with hardly a glance at fall, it was cold and miserable up on the mountainside, and he was running out of books.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Saturday evening loomed over him for the rest of the week. He moved through every day with a secret kind of dread, and it didn't matter how much of a sweat he worked up with his physio program, he couldn't put it out of his mind.</p>
<p>On Wednesday, he gave in and went wine shopping. A plump elderly lady walked him through their selection and he tried and failed to remember the appropriate price range for...whatever kind of dinner this was supposed to be. He had shopped for princes before, and several state dinners, but somehow he thought Chateau Yquem probably wouldn't be the right choice, even if the liquor store had had it in stock. In the end, he chose a twenty five dollar bottle of Chianti Classico and thanked the lady for her help, feeling the dread settle in more firmly than ever.</p>
<p>He went hunting on Friday, despite the bitter cold. This was something he knew. It narrowed his focus. There wasn't anything to see except what was in the scope, no demons to chase him, no memories he would rather forget. Just snow, silence, and blood. The only thing he hadn't counted on was the effort of packing all the meat from a mule doe out of the valley and back up to the cabin. Or possibly he had forgotten that he was old. It took seven trips to pack out what should have been a two trip pile of meat and by the time he was sitting in front of the fireplace with a hot water bottle, his whole side was on fire.</p>
<p>The consequences of the ill-considered hunting trip kept him around the house with a book for the majority of Saturday. Everything hurt, and he limped around in his dressing gown like an old man. The fact that he was an old man just made it worse. On top of everything, he had nearly finished the second last book on his meagre bookshelf and, while Spiders of Western Canada looked fascinating, it lacked practical application in the dead of winter. He tried to make the last pages of Devil's Breath: The Hillcrest Mine Disaster last as long as possible, but by quarter to four he was staring at the empty fireplace and waiting for four thirty to show up so he could reasonably start getting ready.</p>
<p>It was not an overlong process, but he took his time, focusing all his attention on the little details. The feel of hot water cascading down his back, the scrape of the razor, the feel of his only dress shirt sliding over his shoulders, the click of cufflinks. Then there was nothing else for it but to shrug into his wool dress coat and walk down the hill.</p>
<p>It had been a long time since he had attended a casual dinner, but he had elected not to wear a dinner jacket. He was grateful for the decision when Obi Wan opened the door in jeans and a golf shirt. Thankfully, his host didn’t even raise an eyebrow at how woefully overdressed he was, only took his coat, graciously accepted the bottle of wine, and ushered him into the kitchen. Qui Gon found the whole thing mildly suspicious. </p>
<p>"Things aren't quite ready," Obi Wan said, "so we've got time for a drink." He reached up for a pair of whiskey glasses. "I thought we'd save your wine for dinner-sound good?"</p>
<p>"Yes, that's probably for the best." He knew he was being stiff, too formal, but found himself unable to relax. His tension was only heightened when Obi Wan asked, "So you're ex-services?"</p>
<p>"What makes you ask that?"</p>
<p>Obi Wan grinned, "I thought so. The bets were even between ex-con and ex-service, but I didn't think an ex-con would bring wine to dinner. Besides, if you weren't, all you would have said was 'no'."</p>
<p>Qui Gon let out a short, humourless laugh. "I can see my cover's blown. What gave me away?"</p>
<p>Obi Wan shrugged, "Takes one to know one I suppose. I was with the Princess Pats before I decided the army life wasn’t really my style. What's your regiment?"</p>
<p>"If I say it's classified, will I sound pompous?"</p>
<p>"No more pompous than a guy that wears cufflinks to his neighbour's for dinner."</p>
<p>"Fair point. Well, it is classified."</p>
<p>Obi Wan just grinned, his blue eyes sparkling. "Very James Bond of you."</p>
<p>"James Bond," Qui Gon replied, taking a deliberate sip of his whiskey, "was a complete ponce. That kind of theatrical bullshit gets people killed."</p>
<p>"Ooooh, now I'm interested." There was a strange cast to Obi Wan's face that made Qui Gon think he might possibly be being flirted with. He thought about it for a few seconds, then decided that if he was it didn't really matter.</p>
<p>"Just now?"</p>
<p>"Oh, you know, it's just like in those awful novels my grandmother used to read." Obi Wan had turned back to the stove, poking at something that smelled a lot like fried potatoes. "A tall, handsome stranger gets blown into town on the winter wind, gets invited to dinner by his unsuspecting neighbour and it turns out that he's a spy running from a terrible past. Drama ensues. Pretty classic, I'd say." He looked over his shoulder. "You ever read one of them?"</p>
<p>Now he was sure he was being flirted with. The fact he found it rather exciting was just proof of how dull his existence had recently become. "I have never frequented the dollar book aisle at Safeway, no,” he replied.</p>
<p>"Pity. I feel like it's an essential piece of education for a young man."</p>
<p>"I'm far from being that anymore," Qui Gon said, thinking of the disastrous hunting trip.</p>
<p>"And just look how you turned out!” Obi Wan said with a laugh. “Now come on, the potatoes are done."</p>
<p>The fried potatoes, as well as the meat and vegetables that accompanied them, were exquisite, and Qui Gon was surprised to see Obi Wan blush when he told him so.</p>
<p>"It's nothing special," he said with a shrug, "just a recipe I picked up from a friend back when I lived in the city."</p>
<p>"I have to say, you really don't seem like the city type." Qui Gon took a sip of his wine. It wasn't bad, for twenty five dollars, though it had a bit of a sour aftertaste. Casual conversation wasn’t a strength of his, but it was usually a safe bet that people liked to talk about themselves. In particular, they tended to like correcting mistakes, and Obi Wan was no exception.</p>
<p>"I was, a long time ago,” he replied with a smile, “I actually quite liked it. There are lots of positives to city living. Good food, all the yoga classes you could ever go to, and enough grocery selection to keep a person from getting bored out of their minds. Not to mention more festivals than you could shake a stick at."</p>
<p>This short speech was so at odds with the rugged looking cowboy type sitting in front of him that Qui Gon was momentarily surprised into silence. Then he seized on the most salient point.</p>
<p>"Yoga?"</p>
<p>"Yep!" Obi Wan continued, unperturbed, "one of the only things I miss out here is no decent yoga studio. I can practice on my own, but it's just not the same as doing it in a group."</p>
<p>"And do you?" Qui Gon asked, "practice alone, I mean."</p>
<p>"Every morning."</p>
<p>"Huh."</p>
<p>"You should try it sometime, I find it helps with just about everything getting older can throw at me. So what about you?"Obi Wan turned the conversation abruptly around with a charming ease that made Qui Gon shiver a little. "What brings a cosmopolitan kind of guy like you out to the back of beyond?"</p>
<p>"It's quiet," Qui Gon replied, and meant it. Obi Wan just looked at him, eyebrows raised, inviting him to continue. Qui Gon sighed, studying his wineglass carefully in order to avoid Obi Wan's gaze. "They were putting me out to pasture," he said, striving for a casual tone, "Got pretty busted up on my last tour; it was time. I don't, uh...I don’t have much for family, so this place was as good as any. Not a lot of people around to ask questions."</p>
<p>"Damn," Obi Wan grinned, "you really are a tragic Harlequin hero. Too bad you didn't count on having a nosy neighbour."</p>
<p>"No, I didn’t," Qui Gon said softly.</p>
<p>From there, their talk turned to other things. Cattle, the markets, poetry and, most delightfully, books. Obi Wan had an extensive library in the basement of his sprawling home and, upon hearing of the woeful literary situation up the hill, insisted on showing Qui Gon around. It was mostly fiction, which had never been Qui Gon's chosen genre, but his host was so enthusiastic he couldn't help but be interested. In the end, he let Obi Wan press several volumes into his hands.</p>
<p>"It's cold out," he said, matter of fact, "and there's no better cure for an Alberta winter than a fire and a good book. Don't worry about returning them-I know where you live. Besides," he added as he helped Qui Gon into his coat, "I'm curious to see how a Harlequin hero cooks."</p>
<p>All of which resulted in a nearly straight replay the following week, with the only difference being that dinner was at the little cabin on the hill and Qui Gon was more nervous than the week before, which he hadn't thought possible.</p>
<p>It wasn't that he couldn't cook, that wasn't it at all. He'd planned far more elaborate operations than a two course meal, and took the same care and precision to this matter. The question that had troubled him all week was which personality to pull from the bag. The one he had worn since his arrival felt wrong somehow. He had hundreds to choose from, of course, but as he tried them on in the days leading up to dinner, he was painfully aware that none of them were quite worthy of his guest. In the end, with an itch of paranoia and against all his better judgement, he opened the door to Obi Wan on Saturday evening as plain old Qui Gon Jinn, retired assassin cum reclusive literary enthusiast.</p>
<p>"I don't have a James Bond suit," Obi Wan said as he brought the sharp freshness of the cold in the door with him, "so I settled for a sweater. Do I still meet dress code?"</p>
<p>Having been given permission for a once over, Qui Gon indulged himself. It was a good view. "I think we'll manage to find you a seat," he said with a smile. </p>
<p>It was the smile that he thought must be what made Obi Wan such excellent company. There was just something infectious about his broad grin and easy manner that made it practically impossible not to smile back at him. Now that he was a bit more acclimated to it, Qui Gon found he rather liked it. It had been a long time since there was much for him to smile about.</p>
<p>Conversation turned almost at once to the second hand copy of <i>Dracula</i> that Qui Gon had left on the hall table. "How did you like it?" Obi Wan asked eagerly as Qui Gon put the bottle of white he'd brought into the fridge.</p>
<p>"It was excellent," Qui Gon replied, "I would agree with your assessment that it's at least worth the hype, which <i>Wuthering Heights</i> certainly was not."</p>
<p>"You've already finished them both?"</p>
<p>Qui Gon shrugged. "I can't say I have a lot else to fill my time." He pulled the mule deer roast out of the oven and stabbed it with a meat thermometer. He knew it was done, he'd made the calculation days ago and tested a smaller roast just to be sure, but it was always good to have the hard data.</p>
<p>"Well, I have lots of extra to keep busy with if you're ever looking for something to waste time on," Obi Wan said, "Chores are always better done with company."</p>
<p>"I'm not sure I'd know which end of a cow was up, but I'll take the offer under advisement." Qui Gon replied.</p>
<p>This comment was the spark of an extensive treatise on the values and shortcomings of trainee farm students, which Obi Wan delivered without hardly a word of input from him. It wasn't onerous, by any means; Obi Wan seemed to have the gift of talk. His anecdotes of past students were filled with colourful descriptions and a remarkable number of near misses with various unpleasant animal body fluids.</p>
<p>The flow of tales only ceased when they began eating. "Anyway," Obi Wan was saying around his first mouthful, "the poor kid was just-I'm sorry, but what the hell am I eating?"</p>
<p>"It was a mule doe last week."</p>
<p>"It's amazing, how did you cook it?" Obi Wan seemed to be in a mild state of shock.</p>
<p>"I just roasted it in the oven with some sage and rosemary."</p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded slowly. "Huh. You might have to teach me how to do that, I don't think I've ever had meat this good before, wild or otherwise."</p>
<p>Qui Gon chuckled, "Well thank you," he allowed, feeling warm from the praise in spite of himself, "but it's hardly difficult."</p>
<p>"Good!" Obi Wan replied cheerfully, "that means it'll be easy to learn."</p>
<p>It might have been the praise of his cooking, or perhaps just the wine, but the warmth in his chest continued to seep through the rest of his body for the rest of the night. They talked farming, with Qui Gon’s limited participation, and fishing, an area in which Obi Wan seemed to possess expert knowledge.</p>
<p>“We’ll have to go out once it gets warm again,” he pronounced as they sat in the living room after dinner. “The trout fishing down on the river is to die for, I can’t imagine a better place to spend an afternoon.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon studied his guest carefully, taking in every piece of him, and the question had formed on his lips before he had thought it all the way through. “What are you doing here, Kenobi?”</p>
<p>Obi Wan blinked. “You mean...in your house? You invited me...”</p>
<p>“No, not that,” Qui Gon said with a gesture of impatience. “I mean here in the pass. What are you doing in a place like this? I’m here because I’m on the shelf and this is a place most people don’t ask questions, but you...” he stopped, somehow sensing that ‘you’re so wonderful’ would be an awkward finish.</p>
<p>Obi Wan smiled, looking down at the carpet. “There’s more than one way to be on the shelf,” he said quietly, “but the truth is that I like it here. I’ve had my share of the rat race and I didn’t want it anymore. I used to come here as a kid and fish with a good friend of mine. When my last teaching contract ended and I decided on early retirement, it just made sense to come here.”</p>
<p>There was an endearing wistfulness to his face and Qui Gon felt he had been allowed a glimpse at a deeper part of his guest. It was something good, something honest, and he felt insufficient in the light of it. He cleared his throat, looking down at his empty wine glass.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad you like it here,” he said, not sure what else to say and wishing fervently he’d kept his honest questions to himself.  </p>
<p>“I have to say, the company’s recently gotten a lot better.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon looked up, hearing the smile in Obi Wan’s voice. The blue eyes twinkled and he almost thought there was an invitation to...something, but a moment later he brushed the thought aside as ungentlemanly. “If I’m good company, then I hate to think of last winter,” he said, trying to keep his voice as casual as possible. Obi Wan laughed, a warm, rich sound that diffused the last of the tension that had hung between them.</p>
<p>“I applied at the café last winter, as a matter of fact,” Obi Wan said and, to Qui Gon’s relief, talk of the customers and staff of the Holy Ghost carried them through the washing up and right to the door. In the entryway, however, Obi Wan hesitated. He looked like a worried preacher in his big coat with the finished books tucked under his arm, a small frown wrinkling his brow.</p>
<p>“Thanks for coming,” Qui Gon said, holding out a hand in an attempt to forestall the uncomfortable conversation he could feel building. Obi Wan took it but, to Qui Gon’s horror, he held on, staring down at their joined hands for a long moment before looking up at him.</p>
<p>“I just want you to know,” he said, his voice little higher than a whisper, “I’m glad you came to the pass, Qui Gon. Very glad.”</p>
<p>He wanted to reply, every inch of him bent toward it, but an iron fist of self control closed around him, cutting off a sincere reply. Instead he only nodded. “Thank you for the books.”</p>
<p>His coldness stung, he could see from the hurt on Obi Wan’s face, but it only lasted for a second before the smile was back, still warm and inviting. “You’ll have to come by next week and trade them for a new set.”</p>
<p>He didn’t. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, or that he had other things to read, that wasn’t it at all, but everything about Obi Wan had become too much for his jangled nerves. He’d dealt with a lot of rough shit in his life, but this persistently affectionate man was more than he could handle. The fact that he was kind, attractive, and clever only made things worse. This wasn’t someone who could be loved fleetingly, told that the day had been ‘fine’ and nothing else, and Qui Gon didn’t know any other way to be. </p>
<p>Obi Wan deserved better than a washed up spy who couldn’t remember what real affection felt like, and Qui Gon was determined that if he couldn’t do the thing properly, he wasn’t going to do it at all. So he left the books on the doorstep of the little farmhouse when he knew Obi Wan was at work and pretended not to notice the little pain in his chest as he walked back up the hill to his own empty house. It was his side, he told himself. He’d neglected his physio and was paying the price.</p>
<p>Pretending continued the next day when his doorbell rang. Obi Wan stood on the porch holding two books and wearing a frown along with an alarming red scarf.</p>
<p>“I expect a review this time,” he said firmly, thrusting the books forward before Qui Gon could say a word.</p>
<p>“Obi Wan, I-“</p>
<p>“No excuses!” Obi Wan held up a hand to cut him off. “I don’t need dinner or anything, I just want to know what you think of Oscar Wilde.” Without another word, he turned and walked back toward the truck, leaving Qui Gon standing in the open door with a copy of <i>The Portrait Of Dorian Grey</i> and <i>The Importance of Being Earnest</i> in his freezing hands and a growing fear in his heart.</p>
<p>He tried to let the books drag out, taking each page as slowly as he could, but  he was bored and Dorian Grey was intriguing. He finished it over three days, only allowing himself to read it in the evenings before bed. He managed to delay starting the second book until he had been for a long day hike up the pass towards BC, stopping at all the pretty spots on the way. He was exhausted when he returned, and fell into bed after a hot bath, leaving Wilde on the bedside table untouched.</p>
<p>The next day, he was faced by the consequences of his actions and lay on the couch all day in between breaks for coffee and some food. By lunchtime he had given in and started the book, but by evening it lay abandoned on the table, half read, as Qui Gon started to wonder if he hadn’t really over done things in the last week. He felt like...well he didn’t know how he felt, but it wasn’t good and he lay on the couch all night under the warmest blankets he could collect, chilled to the bone though he couldn’t stop sweating. He drifted in and out of sleep, a delirious collection of dreams keeping him from true rest.</p>
<p>The pain in his chest woke him early the next morning and he did his very best to get off the couch. He shook in every limb as he made his careful way to the kitchen, trying not to fall as the world periodically got fuzzy and black at the edges. A cup of hot water, that was what he needed. If he could keep hydrated and just get warm then he would be alright.</p>
<p>The hot water helped a little, and at least it eased the cough that had settled into his chest with hot claws. He had known a Major who had picked up whooping cough when they were abroad, and he imagined this was what the poor man had felt like. He lay on the couch under his blanket pile, every cough feeling like it was tearing him apart inside. Dimly, as he faded back into a restless sleep, he wondered who got to marry whom and why everyone in that damned book wanted to be named Earnest.</p>
<p>
  <b>II.</b>
</p>
<p>Obi Wan was pacing. He couldn’t help himself. It had always been a nervous habit and, no matter how often he tried to remind himself that some people read slower than others, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong up the hill.</p>
<p>It had been over a week since he left the books, and he had seen neither hide nor hair of his neighbour. He hadn’t even seen his telltale footprints in the fresh snow on the gravel road that joined their properties to the highway. Qui Gon walked it every day, as far as he knew, and the sudden change in habits worried him.</p>
<p>Doubt kept him at home; doubt and the memory of Qui Gon’s stunned face as he had handed him the last batch of books. He had pushed too hard, he always did, and he wore a track around his living room floor hoping he hadn’t blown everything with this mysterious harlequin spy that read books about spiders. When the <i>Iliad</i> and the <i>Odyssey</i> had shown up on his doorstep it had felt like a slap and he’d fumed the whole way up the hill. He could handle rejection, he’d told himself, it was that silent withdrawal he couldn’t stand. If the man didn’t want his books or his friendship then he could damn well say so to his face.</p>
<p>All the same, he probably should have waited. Should have taken his time to think it through instead of jumping into his emotions with both feet. He cringed at the memory of his abrupt words on Qui Gon’s porch, and stopped pacing. He’d wait this time. The need to apologize for his intrusion, just to know how things stood between them, nearly overwhelmed him, but he made himself take down his volume of Blake and lose himself in the artistry for three hours. He made himself dinner. He ate it, still stewing over the issue, and did the washing up. When the dishes were done, he almost made himself go to bed, but instead he shrugged on his coat and headed outside.</p>
<p>He’d just take a walk up there and knock on the door. If Qui Gon wasn’t there, then there was nothing lost, and if he was, well, then there’d have to be an apology. He wasn’t sure what he’d say yet, but that could wait. </p>
<p>As he walked up the road, he could see that his afternoon’s suspicions had been correct. The snow past his own drive was as fresh and clean as it had been when it had fallen four days earlier. Worry joined the cocktail of doubt and guilt that was mixing itself in his chest and he walked a little faster.</p>
<p>He reached the house just as the very last of the light had faded behind the mountains and the stars shone bright and cold over the empty, quiet yard. The old Ford Explorer was parked under a thick blanket of snow by the wood shed, and a pile of chopped wood stacked neatly against the side of the house that hadn’t been there when he had visited last. The house was dark, but he walked up the steps anyway, just to make sure.</p>
<p>He knocked once, and waited, his breath steaming in the cold. He had nearly convinced himself that no one was home, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, when he heard something hit the floor inside the house. He knocked again, louder this time and, to his surprise, the old door just swung gently inward.</p>
<p>Now he crept forward warily, every sense on the alert. A man like Qui Gon Jinn didn’t leave his door unlocked, not as long as he was of sound mind and body. The hairs raised on the back of his neck as he pushed the door open the rest of the way.</p>
<p>It was quiet in the house, except for a strange clattering sound he couldn’t place until he came into the living room and saw Qui Gon huddled under an impressive pile of blankets and shivering so hard his teeth chattered. His copy of The Importance of Being Earnest lay on the floor where it had fallen. </p>
<p>All thought of suspicious intruders vanished from Obi Wan’s mind as he quickly crossed the space to the couch and laid a hand on Qui Gon’s forehead.</p>
<p>“Jesus, man,” he swore as he felt the heat under his palm. </p>
<p>At the sound of his voice, Qui Gon’s eyes fluttered open, the blue clouded with pain and delirium, but they didn’t stay open long. Obi Wan ran through his emergency procedures in his head, trying not to panic. Secure scene-check. Check for consciousness-check. Pulse and respiration-check. Call for help. Right. Call for help. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but it looked like pneumonia and he didn’t have the training for that. He didn’t think he could manage getting Qui Gon out the door into his truck, but something stopped him from calling an ambulance right away. </p>
<p>Qui Gon has said ex-services and Obi Wan had never pried. He wasn’t really sure he wanted to know, but he did know he didn’t want to be responsible for bringing in the kind of questions Qui Gon had come to Alberta to avoid. He wracked his brains while he sat at Qui Gon’s side, closing off the tiny panicking part of his brain that was screaming at him about pleural effusion and sepsis. Step by step. Nice and calm. Think things through and process the panic later. </p>
<p>It was quite likely that Qui Gon had had some good reason for not going to the doctor himself, but he hadn’t woken up again, so there was no way to ask him. What it came right down to was that this was some kind of nasty sickness. If it had kept him indoors for four days, Obi Wan thought it was probably serious enough to warrant medical attention. He waited for a good long while, trying to think of the best thing to do, but in the end he opted for a 911 call.</p>
<p>Qui Gon might be angry with him when he got out the other end of this, but at least this way there was a good chance that he’d actually get out the other end. Obi Wan has seen enough creatures carried off by infection to take the risk of Qui Gon’s displeasure. It was probably the lesser of two evils. </p>
<p>When the paramedics had come and gone, he looked around the comfy little cabin. It was a wreck. So was he, if he was honest, so he did the only sensible thing and started to clean up the detritus of four days of confined sickness. When he was done, he carried his own weary body back down the hill and took himself off to bed, saving his worry about Qui Gon for a time when he could do something about it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*<br/>There was a dark room and a flickering candle. The barest suggestion of a table. It felt hot and unbalanced, as though the room was a sauna without the comforting smell of cedar. There was no smell at all, only shadows and an outline of a woman. There was a smile on her face, though he couldn’t say how he knew. It was there in the words that snaked into his mind, crawled down his spine and made his head spin. “Welcome home,” she said into the darkness in his head, “life is different here.” </p>
<p>He wanted to ask her what she meant, how she knew, but his tongue was trapped on the roof of his mouth, and he could only nod, like his head was filled with warm water, sloshing up behind his eyes. “There is no camouflage for you.” He tried to tell her that he needed cover, but all she said was “Welcome home. Life is different here. There is no camouflage for you.”</p>
<p>*<br/>Light stabbed his eyes, cold and piercing. He squeezed them shut, but the pain found him anyway, grabbing him by the skull and shaking hard. He felt his eyes water and blinked them open, the film of tears distorting the white glow of the fluorescent above him. A face resolved itself in the glow, dark skin and hair, single luminous eye. A smile.</p>
<p>“Glad to see you’re awake, Mr. Jinn. My name is Tahl and I’ll be your nurse for this shift. I’m just going to check your IV.”</p>
<p>The fog began to clear as Qui Gon’s mind latched on to salient words. Nurse. IV. That meant hospital. Hospitals meant questions and he didn’t like the feel of that. It meant official places you couldn’t get out of without being noticed, places your name could be found, places you were trapped. As he felt his heart begin to pound in his chest, the face of his one-eyed nurse swam back into his view.</p>
<p>“The guy that came to visit you this morning said this might be tough for you, Mr. Jinn, so I want you to take a long, slow breath.” Her voice was calm, every word delivered with complete sincerity. He latched onto her voice with everything he had, fighting back against his own panic. The air felt tight in his lungs, but he did as she said.</p>
<p>“Good. That’s good. Now let it out slow. And again. In...out...that’s right. Now, I don’t know if this will help, but I’m right here. I’ll be just down the hall all night. You need something, or you’re worried about anything, you just push this thing right here, okay?”</p>
<p>She showed him the red button before pushing the hard piece of plastic into his palm and he nodded, feeling his heart rate return to normal limits, though by no means relaxation.</p>
<p>“That’s good. Now you just lie there nice and still and I’m going to switch out this IV for a fresh one, alright?”</p>
<p>He swallowed hard, trying to get enough spit to make his throat work properly. “Alright.”</p>
<p>“You’ve had a rough few days, Mr. Jinn,” she said, her gaze returning to her work. “I don’t think I’ve seen a pneumonia this severe for a while. You’re lucky someone found you and called someone out to get you.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon rolled this information around in his mind, fitting it with the blur of dream and half memory that made up his sense of everything past his hike up the pass. “What day is it?”</p>
<p>“December 21st,” she replied, “two days after Hanukkah, and four until Jesus’ birthday. Quite a while until Eid, I’m afraid. I hate to be judgmental, but you look like you’re in the Abrahamic camp,” she added in response to his questioning look.</p>
<p>“A bit,” he acknowledged. “And you?”</p>
<p>“Oh, my family was lighting candles,” she said with a wide grin, “but I work nights this year.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.” His voice seemed to be coming back in bits and pieces, as crackled and sore as if it were made of sandpaper.</p>
<p>“Oh, don’t be,” she said “I’ll swap with one of the girls next year, we all take our turn at it.” She patted his arm and stood back, hands on hips, to admire her handiwork.</p>
<p>“You’ll be alright I’m your own for a bit?” She asked.</p>
<p>“Yes, thank you.”</p>
<p>“Good,” she beamed, “I’ll be in for vitals in a bit, so don’t run away on me.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Obi Wan felt like there was a small hole at the back of his chest. He hadn’t realized it was there at first. He’d just gone about his daily routine, feeding the cattle, going in to work, plunging himself into books, but it began to grow as the days went on. Strange how little time it took to get used to the idea of a person, of holding a bit of them inside you all the time, and how much that idea began to rub when its representation went away. He’d found that with Anakin all those years ago. There was a little patch of him in there too, though the coarse touch of the memory had smoothed a little with time. Time didn’t heal wounds, but it sometimes made them hurt a little less.</p>
<p>He’d only gone in to visit Qui Gon the first morning to assure himself that he’d done the right thing. Watching the chest rise,  sitting in the nest of soft beeps and the murmur of quiet voices in the hall, he’d felt relief. The nurse, Tahl, had assured him that Qui Gon was medically stable and all he needed were some antibiotics and a good long rest. He hadn’t felt right, just sitting there watching, so he had left the unfinished copy of The Importance of Being Earnest sitting on the little table and taken himself off to town for groceries.</p>
<p>It had been the next day, when he dropped by with a book in his pocket and a hopeful smile on his face, that things had really begun to go south on him. Qui Gon had been fully awake then, though still weak and tired, with heavy dark circles under his eyes. He had looked up when Obi Wan had come in, and his words had seemed to take all the air out of the room.</p>
<p>“Why are you still here?”</p>
<p>He was sure he’d gaped like a landed fish, the question had seemed so utterly absurd to him, and he had stammered out some incoherent reply. A little pucker had appeared between Qui Gon’s brows and he had shaken his head.</p>
<p>“I keep putting up walls and you just keep coming. Why?” There had been real confusion in the question and it had driven him to anger, fuelled by his own doubt and shame, as anger always was.</p>
<p>“If you don’t want me to come, you only need to say so.” He had shoved the copy of <i>Torrents of Spring</i> onto the table by the bed, feeling hurt and miserable and hating himself for it. There had been no reply to his question and he’d taken it for a dismissal, stalking out of the hospital and back to his truck.</p>
<p>He had done the right thing, probably saved the man’s life, and if Qui Gon still wanted nothing to do with him or Turgenev for the rest of their lives, that would be alright. At least that’s what he told himself, and it might have almost been true, if it wasn’t for that little patch of discomfort that had opened up inside him as he drove home from the hospital.</p>
<p>He lasted almost three whole days before he decided he probably ought to talk about it, and another afternoon before he loaded himself into his truck and headed off down the road to the Dagobah Ranch and Kennels.</p>
<p>It wasn’t much of a ranch, and there were only two kennels with wire runs attached out the back for the permanently absent tenants, but Joda, the old Finnish farmer that lived in the tumbled down ranch house, was one of the smartest men Obi Wan had ever met. They didn’t visit often, but they’d been to enough cattle shows together to know each other by sight, and he’d found himself in Joda’s little kitchen for tea on more than one occasion over the years. It was usually when he needed to get something off his chest, and they had settled into a pattern. The old truck would pull up, Joda would put on a pot of tea, and then he’d sit and listen for as long as it took, offering well placed questions and the occasional remark that helped turn tricky problems into first steps at least. The thing that Obi Wan always found the strangest was that he usually left the ranch having cemented something he had always known he would choose, though he could never remember when ‘always’ had begun.</p>
<p>“I think I’ve messed up,” he began that afternoon, taking a sip of the tea Joda had set down in front of him.</p>
<p>“Surprised I am not,” the Finn replied, settling back into his easy chair with his own cup. “Tell me what has happened this time, you must.” He was the shortest man Obi Wan had ever seen, with a wisping cloud of curly white hair that seemed to be losing the battle for possession of his head.</p>
<p>Obi Wan sighed. “I met my neighbour from up the hill a few weeks ago. He’s...well he’s something else. I met him at the Ghost and offered him a ride home. I invited him for dinner.”</p>
<p>“Attracted to him, are you?”</p>
<p>Obi Wan flushed, feeling like a fourteen year old all over again. “Yep.” There was no getting around it. It was the start of the whole problem and the reason he still had one. Joda nodded, inviting him to continue.</p>
<p>“So he came over, looking like something out of a harlequin romance novel and I flirted with him shamelessly the whole night and practically invited myself for dinner at his place the next week. I gave him some books, he read them and had clever things to say about them and we talked...” </p>
<p>Obi Wan frowned, thinking back to the second dinner. “I thought things were going well, and then I said something and he just zipped up tighter than an owl’s arsehole. I didn’t know what it was at the time, I still don’t.”</p>
<p>“Know what words you say, you do not?” Joda asked, a twinkle in his wide brown eyes, “drink less wine you must, Obi Wan.”</p>
<p>“Well, I remember what I said near enough,” Obi Wan admitted, “I’m just not sure which thing touched him off, or why.”</p>
<p>“Ah. Different questions we have found. Continue.”</p>
<p>“I left him a second set of books. He just left them on my doorstep while I was at work. I just came back and there they were, staring me in the face. No note, no nothing, and I didn’t hear from him for days. Then I...well, I got a little angry. I didn’t understand what I’d done, or why he was giving me the sudden silent treatment, so I took some Wilde and just walked up there and told him I wanted a review this time. I didn’t need dinner or anything, I just wanted to talk about it. And then he got pneumonia and now he’s in the hospital.”</p>
<p>“Escalated quickly this did,” Joda commented drily, “left out details you have.”</p>
<p>So Obi Wan filled them in, adding in all the thoughts that had been swirling around in his mind like a mad cloud of bees. When he had finished and reached for his cold tea, Joda was silent for some time.</p>
<p>“Like this secret man, do you?” He asked at last.</p>
<p>“Yes. I think. A bit.”</p>
<p>“Hm. Worried he does not like you, you are?”</p>
<p>Hearing the words spoken aloud made the awful feeling in his chest seem small and foolish, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Scared of pushing too hard and ruining friendship, you are?”</p>
<p>“Uh-Huh.”</p>
<p>Joda shrugged, leaning on his walking stick as he slid from the chair. “The person who has these answers I am not.”</p>
<p>“No,” Obi Wan sighed heavily. “No, I guess you’re not.”</p>
<p>“If want answers you do, then ask the man who has them, you must,” Joda added, coming back with a tin of shortbread. He thrust it at Obi Wan like a weapon. “Eat, you must. Take strength and courage, difficult conversations do.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The hospital room was still as bare as it had been earlier in the week, but Qui Gon was sitting up, wrapped in a patterned blue hospital housecoat. His eyes were clear and alert and, if it hadn’t been for the dark shadows that still lurked under them, he would have looked in perfect health. To Obi Wan’s secret delight, he had a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose and was part of the way through <i>Torrents of Spring.</i></p>
<p>“So is it any good?” He asked, hovering over the threshold.</p>
<p>Qui Gon looked up over the glasses, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Yes, it is. I can’t say I like it as well as Dorian Grey, but it’s definitely a decent read.” He glanced to the barren side table. “Though I may be somewhat biased, given my astounding lack of distraction. You may as well come in,” he added, waving toward the single visitor’s chair in the corner. There was a tightness about his manner that Obi Wan didn’t quite understand, but he obeyed, settling himself into the hard backed chair, hands clasped on his lap.</p>
<p>“I quite liked it when I first read it,” he said, just for something to say. The comment couldn’t carry him far, and the silence stretched on for some time, until Qui Gon looked up from the cover of the novella.</p>
<p>“Who does he choose? Sanin, I mean,” he added, running a hand over the book.</p>
<p>Obi Wan shrugged, “I can’t really tell you. That would be cheating.”</p>
<p>“My bets are on the rich lady,” Qui Gon said, still to the cover. “Maria Nicolaevna.” His tongue brushed over the famous character’s patronymic with practiced ease and Obi Wan found himself wondering yet again how many strange paths this odd man’s life had taken him down.</p>
<p>“I think I owe you a thank you,” Qui Gon continued, jumping right into the blue beyond of the conversation, “and an apology.”</p>
<p>He glanced up momentarily, a flicker of blue behind the glass, before looking back to the book once more. “I’m not much of a person for either one, so I’ll also have to ask for your patience.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded, not wanting to interrupt this sudden flow of introspection.</p>
<p>“I understand from Ms. Tahl that I have you to thank for my life, so...thank you for that. Thank you for coming to look in on me and...everything.” He took a deep breath as though he were about to plunge into a pool of cold water or touch a poisonous snake. “And I’m sorry for...for trying to ignore you. And for what I said the other day. I could tell it upset you, and I wanted you to know that wasn’t my intention.”</p>
<p>“You weren’t well,” Obi Wan said, feeling the second-hand awkwardness seeping into him and wishing it would stop.</p>
<p>“No, I was afraid.” The simple truth of that statement hit hard and all Obi Wan could do was stare as Qui Gon slowly looked up, finding eye contact and sinking into it.</p>
<p> “You are a good man, Obi Wan Kenobi,” he said, “and I am much less so. I don’t know what to do with kindness, or friendship, or...much of anything else like that. It’s not something I’ve ever been good at and it scares the hell out of me.” The words came out in a rush, as though he had been holding them in for some time, perhaps from their last visit, perhaps from even farther back. “So, although I don’t understand what it is that keeps bringing you back here, I want you to know that I appreciate it and you.” </p>
<p>He looked away again, a slight flush crawling up his neck. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan was a bit stunned by this sudden emotional eloquence, and it took him a few moments to get his words back under his own control. “You...You’re welcome. Thanks. Thanks for telling me.” He let the silence settle again before he could think of how to go on.</p>
<p>“So,” he hazarded, “I guess you’ll need a new book?”</p>
<p>Qui Gon smiled and shook his head. “I think I will. They’re talking about keeping me until tomorrow at least, though I feel a hell of a lot better than I did.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan’s answering smile seemed to come right up from the middle of him, filling him with a curious warmth. “I guess I’d better drop in again, then.”</p>
<p>There was a tiny shadow of the old reticence on Qui Gon’s face, but the smile didn’t fade. “I think I’d like that.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“A bit rough you have to be in here for Christmas, if that’s your holiday of choice,” Tahl said as she checked his vitals.</p>
<p>Qui Gon shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t encased in a blood pressure cuff. “It’s not really even my holiday. Just another day. The only rough thing is that I’m bored as hell.”</p>
<p>The last book had run out earlier that afternoon and, while he did appreciate Obi Wan a good deal, he was fairly certain the man had more important places to be on Christmas Day than in the hospital. Staring at the wall was an interesting pastime enough, but it didn’t have much longevity. Tahl laughed over the rasp of the Velcro as she removed the cuff.</p>
<p>“I think some of the United Church ladies is coming around with knitted mitts for the patients,” she said with a wicked grin, “maybe one of them will take pity on you and teach you how to knit.”</p>
<p>“Right. I’m sure there are far more interesting pupils than me.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Tahl threw over her shoulder as she left the room, “The Widow Gallia is pretty tenacious!”</p>
<p>As it turned out, the Widow Gallia was a tall, imposing woman clad in iron grey with her hair pulled back into a tight bun. Tenacious was not the first word that leapt to Qui Gon’s mind as she swept into his room in her long coat, bringing the frigid winter air swirling in her wake. Terrifying seemed like a better fit.</p>
<p>“One of the nurses tells me you are interested in knitting, Mr. Jinn.” Her voice was as crisp as her manner, and he cursed Tahl inwardly before he replied. “My schedule’s fairly free today, yes.”</p>
<p>“I see.” The Widow eyed him suspiciously for a long moment before settling herself with great care onto the small visitor’s chair and pulling out a cloth shopping bag . The bag contained, to Qui Gon’s alarm, a long pair of knitting needles that looked as though they had been used in the war, probably for clandestine assassin work. The Widow gave him a tight smile. “Then you will need these.”</p>
<p>It was an instructive hour or so, and when Tahl popped her head back in to check on him, he had done several rows of tight zig-zag stitches with the spare needles the Widow Gallia had left him. It took all his concentration and Tahl laughed at him again, but it did take the edge off his boredom and pass the time until Obi Wan tapped at his hospital room door.</p>
<p>He was fresh from outside, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, and carrying a plastic grocery bag in one gloved hand. He stopped at the threshold again, uncertainty written all over his bearded face, and raised the grocery bag. “Brought you some books.”</p>
<p>He wasn’t used to the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest, but he was determined to figure out what the hell it thought it was doing in there and why it scared the hell out of him, so he tried on a smile and waved Obi Wan to the chair with his free needle. “Come on in. I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you at Christmas.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan shrugged as he sat down, putting the grocery bag on the table. “I didn’t have anywhere to be, really, so I thought I’d drop in on you.” He looked down at the pile of yarn in Qui Gon’s lap and smiled. “What on earth are you doing with that?”</p>
<p>Qui Gon held up the tangle and examined it critically. “I’m trying to turn this ball of yarn into...something. I can’t tell if I’m winning or not.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Obi Wan’s eyes sparkled, “are you using magic, or is it crochet?”</p>
<p>“The lady that just taught me said it was knitting, but I’m not convinced. She was very emphatic about the whole process, it was a little intimidating.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan laughed, “Oh dear, did you get caught by the Widow Gallia? I didn’t even know she still came around. That lady’s a terror, but she’s a magnificent knitter.” He reached into the grocery bag and pulled out another book with great care, almost as if he was unsure of the reception it might receive.</p>
<p>“I brought this for you,” he said, passing it over, “just in case you get tired of turning yarn into things.”</p>
<p>“North and South,” Qui Gon read from the immaculate cover. He looked up and was surprised to see that Obi Wan’s cheeks were flushed. “I take it this isn’t about a compass or anything remotely practical?”</p>
<p>“Ah...no, not really. It’s an early Victorian romance.  And it, um...it comes with a request. An invitation, actually.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon felt his stomach tighten, but he took a deep breath, waiting for whatever terrifying thing might come next. “Okay, I’m listening.”</p>
<p>“Well, a friend of mine is coming out from Ontario tomorrow for Christmas-it’s why I’m not really celebrating today, I’m waiting for them. I thought, since you’re getting out tomorrow, if you needed a ride or something, you might as well come for dinner, if you like. I mean, if you’re feeling up to it, if you don’t have plans.” The words came out in a disjointed rush and, when they were done, Obi Wan didn’t seem to know what to do with them. He stared down at the blankets on the bed, clasping and unclasping his hands as he waited for a reply.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Qui Gon said quietly, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in his belly, “just let me get this straight in my head. You’re asking me over for Christmas after giving me a Victorian romance novel?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon felt as though he’d just been asked to do a jump out of an open plane with no parachute. He nodded, feigning reasonability to himself, and decided that a direct frontal attack was probably the best. “Okay. Now, I don’t mean to be slow on the uptake here, but are you flirting with me?”</p>
<p>Obi Wan’s gaze was still steady on the blankets. “Yeah. A bit.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded again. “Okay.” That was a bit of a relief. At least he hadn’t gotten it completely wrong.</p>
<p>“That’s...all?” Obi Wan asked, looking up from the blankets with a frown, “Just ‘okay’?”</p>
<p>“I think so,” Qui Gon said with a small shrug. “I don’t think I mind, I just...wanted to make sure, that’s all. I didn’t want to miss it this time.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan smiled, that big one that lit up his whole face. “Good. So...dinner tomorrow? And can I pick you up?”</p>
<p>“That would be great. On both counts.”</p>
<p>
  <b>III.</b>
</p>
<p>Obi Wan felt caught in an emotional whirlwind. He was driving down the highway, watching the prairie fall away on either side of him, whites and pale yellows fading away to deep pink and orange as the sun stained the sky. He enjoyed the early hour, loved watching the sun come up over the best place there was to live in the world. The sky went on for days, and it always felt like a breath of fresh air to come out of the pass and see the whole of everything spread out before him. It was spectacular in summer and fall, of course, but even in winter he found the endless openness relaxing.</p>
<p>That is, it was usually relaxing, except that today he was driving to pick up his late best friend’s wife and her two children to bring them back to meet his...strange harlequin spy who had decided he didn’t mind being flirted with. The knowledge still filled his chest with a tight, warm feeling, one that only intensified as he remembered (imagined?) Qui Gon’s eyes. He was a hard man to read, that was certain, but Obi Wan couldn’t help remembering kindness in those eyes. Kindness and something sharper.</p>
<p>He spent the whole drive trying to work out what he was going to say to Padmé about it, but he needn’t have worried. She stepped off the plane like she’d walked out of an issue of Vogue, the twins in tow, and as soon as they were all settled into the truck, she looked across at him with her diplomat’s eyes.</p>
<p>“Alright, what’s his name?”</p>
<p>Obi Wan stuttered and turned very red, but managed to manoeuvre the truck out of the arrivals parking lot. Padmé laughed at him, which only made his embarrassment more acute.</p>
<p>“I guess I should have known you’d know all about it,” he said, staring at the road to avoid looking at her face.</p>
<p>“Obi Wan, don’t be silly. I’m the Canadian ambassador to the United Kingdom. I spend twelve hours a day watching faces and hardly anything else. You’re a dear man, and I love you, but your face is about as difficult to read as a third grader’s PowerPoint. Besides,” she added, laying a hand on his arm as they pulled out onto the highway once more, “you already told me we might be expecting an extra guest for dinner. It wasn’t a difficult leap.”</p>
<p>“Mooooom, Leia’s trying to steal my walkman!” Luke’s querulous voice rose from the back seat. His sister, ever quick on the defense, spoke up at once.</p>
<p>“I was not! I was just looking at it to see what you were playing! You don’t have to be like that, just because Uncle Obi’s here.” There was a sneer in Leia’s voice that drew a frown like a storm to her mother’s brow.</p>
<p>“Leia! Be kind to your brother. Luke, stop whining. If the two of you can’t stay civilized in the back seat, I will have to come sit between you.”</p>
<p>The threat of maternal interference in the tense political climate diffused the conflict, and the twins subsided back into sullen silence, confining themselves to dark looks every fifteen seconds until this became boring.</p>
<p>Padmé sighed as she turned back to the front seat. She looked older than the last time he’d seen her, though the dark circles and red blotches she’d worn at Anakin’s funeral had faded. In their place, they had left the lines a hard marriage and a difficult profession had carved into her delicate features. More than anything else, Obi Wan supposed, she looked sad.</p>
<p>“How have you been keeping?” He asked, trying to keep his voice low. Padmé glanced in the rear view mirror to ensure that both twins were plugged into their respective pieces of technology before she answered.</p>
<p>“I’m keeping tired,” she said, rubbing her temples, “Tired and at the end of my rope.” She relaxed back into the seat, her perfect posture slipping just a bit. “They’re a lot to manage on a full time job, and I can’t help but feel like I’m being forced to choose between my children and my career. I hate the dichotomy, but I can’t seem to get out of it. It’s time for them to switch to middle school, and I suppose I should send them both to different private schools. I think it’s what Anakin would have wanted, anyway.”</p>
<p>“But you don’t want to,” Obi Wan supplied.</p>
<p>“Not really, no.” She sat staring out at the snowy fields for several miles before she spoke again. “They’re just so young. We talked about them doing an exchange, actually. Getting some different cultural experiences, learning a different language or something like that. Leia was delighted, she wants to go to France, or Montreal.”</p>
<p>“Of course she does. And Luke?”</p>
<p>“When I asked Luke where he would like to go, he said that the place he’d like to live more than anywhere was with you.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan felt a little tightness around his heart. “Oh.”</p>
<p>“I know there aren’t many large schools down here,” Padmé added, all in a rush, “but I wondered...well, I don’t even know if it’s a possibility, I have to see where I’ll be living and what Leia really does want to do. If she’s serious about the French, I mean. I don’t really want to separate them.”</p>
<p>“No, of course not. But I would be happy to take one or both of them for as long as they’d like.”</p>
<p>Padmé gave a short, humourless laugh. “I think Luke would stay out here forever if you asked him. He’s not built for cities, much as his father tried to make him a cosmopolitan little gentleman. He’d much prefer to go fishing, even at ten.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan let the point sink through the silence for a while. “You’ve been a good mom, Padmé,” he said, staring down the highway.</p>
<p>“I’m glad you think so. Sometimes I’m not sure. They’ve spent a lot of time in hospitals, Obi Wan, and a lot of time on the road. It isn’t the life I would have chosen for them, if I had it to do over again.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded, acknowledging the point. “But it’s the life they have,” he said, “and there are a lot of worse ones.” He gave an involuntary shiver, thinking of the place he’d first met Anakin, when he’d been a teacher in North Edmonton. “A lot worse.”</p>
<p>“I suppose you’re right,” Padmé murmured, staring out the window. “Sometimes I wish I could just resign from being the Mom as easily as I could resign from politics. At least at work I have performance reviews and professional development.”</p>
<p>Obi Wan laughed. “Kids don’t come with manuals, that’s for sure.”</p>
<p>“No,” she replied, and he pretended not to notice her wiping at her eyes, just as she pretended she hadn’t seen him look. “No, they certainly don’t.”</p>
<p>The rest of the drive was uneventful and, to Obi Wan’s relief, Padmé seemed to have forgotten about their guest as she talked politics and international social policy. By the time they reached the cabin on the hill, he had almost believed he could get all the way to dinner without an explanation. But, after the twins had been sent down to make themselves comfortable in the basement and they had begun the dinner prep, he was ambushed by another perceptive question.</p>
<p>“So, how shall I refer to your gentleman friend?” Obi Wan was cutting carrots and his fingertips nearly joined the little orange disks on the cutting board.</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>Padmé shrugged, the paring knife in her hand still turning potato skins to neat spirals. “Well, you haven’t told me his name, or even if this is serious or not. So are we entertaining a coworker that you have an unfortunate crush on, or is this someone whose name I should try to remember?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know about your memory,” Obi Wan replied, returning to the carrots, “but his name is Qui Gon  and he likes books.”</p>
<p>Padmé raised a delicate eyebrow. “That’s all? Nothing else I need to know?”</p>
<p>It was Obi Wan’s turn to shrug. “I don’t think so.”</p>
<p>“Ooo, you have got it bad. I don’t think I’ve seen you blush that much since Senator Organa told you to stop staring at Evaan Verlaine’s extremely fitted tuxedo pants.” Padmé laughed again as his cheeks coloured at the mere memory of the horrifying incident.</p>
<p>“I’ve told you, there’s a reason I moved out west,” he muttered, hacking savagely at the carrots.</p>
<p>“Oh, come on, it was funny. But really, Obi Wan, who is this guy? Where did you meet him?” When he hesitated, she pointed the paring knife at him like a sword. “How can I be your wingman if I don’t know anything about the guy?”</p>
<p>“What’s a wingman?” Luke had ascended from the basement, Leia trailing behind him with her nose in a book.</p>
<p>Obi Wan blushed even deeper, if that were possible, but Padmé never missed a beat. “It means that your uncle might have found someone he wants to share his life with. He’s coming for dinner, and it’s our job as family to help make a good impression.”</p>
<p>Leia’s head snapped up out of her book. “Does he like cats?”</p>
<p>“Uh...” Obi Wan floundered, outclassed by the ten year old logic.</p>
<p>“And does he like fishing?” Luke added.</p>
<p>“I don’t actually know.”</p>
<p>Leia’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Uncle Obi, how do you know you like him if you don’t know anything about him?”</p>
<p>“I know some things,” Obi Wan countered, “just not those things.”</p>
<p>Leia raised a little eyebrow, “Like what?”</p>
<p>“We talked about farming and hunting, I know he likes to read.”</p>
<p>“Do you know his favourite colour and what he would be if he was an animal?” Leia asked with a frown.</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>The resulting eye roll was spectacular to behold. Leia didn’t even bother to add an explanation-the expression really did speak for itself. For once, Luke agreed with his sister. “You gotta ask the important stuff,” he said with the wisdom of the very young, “otherwise how will you know if you want to share your hot chocolate or anything?”</p>
<p>“That’s right,” Leia swept back in, “You can’t share stuff with just anyone.”</p>
<p>“We’ve already shared books,” Obi Wan pointed out, “so it’s probably alright.”</p>
<p>Leia’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “You gave him a book?” She asked in a tone that managed to imply that he had given away a million dollars to a total stranger. </p>
<p>Luke shook his head slowly “That’s pretty serious.”</p>
<p>“It really is,” Padmé came to his rescue at last, hiding her smile with considerable difficulty, “so you see how important it will be for us all to be on our best behaviour for dinner?”</p>
<p>The twins nodded solemnly. “I’m glad to hear it,” Padmé replied, “Now, why don’t the two of you come help me in the kitchen so that your uncle can get himself ready to pick up our guest.” It wasn’t really a question, and all three of them obeyed. The kitchen had always been their safe space, Obi Wan remembered, a place where the world took a back seat and the family could work together. When he left them to drive to the hospital, they were chatting contentedly about the book Leia was reading, as if they hadn’t been on a four hour flight at all.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>The hospital room looked very empty as Qui Gon stood in the doorway waiting for Obi Wan. He would be glad to leave it behind. </p>
<p>“So, they’re springing you?” said a cheerful voice from his elbow. Now that he was on his feet, Tahl was revealed to be a dainty five three, though still full of energy and efficiency. </p>
<p>“Yes, I seem to have served my sentence,” Qui Gon replied with a smile. </p>
<p>“Well, they sure didn’t let you out early for good behaviour,” Tahl said with a snort, punching him gently on the arm. “You take care out there, alright? Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I don't see you again.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon smiled. “I understand.” He held out a hand to the nurse. “Thank you for everything, Tahl. You made this a lot easier than it could have been.” <br/>She grinned as she shook his hand. “Just doing my job, Mr. Jinn, but thanks. It’s always good to hear I’m doing alright at it.” </p>
<p>“More than alright,” Qui Gon said, “and belated Happy Hanukkah.” </p>
<p>“Merry Christmas, Mr. Jinn,” Tahl replied, turning back toward the nursing station. “And stay out of trouble!”</p>
<p>Qui Gon was pretty sure trouble was exactly what he was headed for, and the tingling down his spine as he saw the rusty Ford pull up in front of the hospital just deepened his worry. Obi Wan grinned as he climbed in. </p>
<p>“So they did let you out after all,” he said. </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded. “Glad to get rid of me, I expect.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan laughed. “I’m sure you were a fine patient. Do you want to stop at your place first? I didn’t know how you were feeling.” </p>
<p>There was a curious edge to the question and Qui Gon looked over at him. There was a slight flush to Obi Wan’s cheeks, and he gripped the wheel tight, sure signs he was nervous. </p>
<p>“If I’m meeting your friends, then I think I ought to take a few minutes to get presentable, if you don’t mind,” Qui Gon said quietly. </p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded. “Sure.” He kept his eyes on the road and they drove in silence until they reached the cabin on the hill. </p>
<p>A hot shower and a shave made him feel like a new man, and by the time he’d chosen a fresh set of clothes and come out into his own living room, Qui Gon felt as though he might be ready for trouble. He looked up from fastening his watch to see Obi Wan pacing in front of the sofa, hands knit tightly behind his back. </p>
<p>“You alright?” he asked. </p>
<p>The pacing ceased instantly and Obi Wan spun around with a comically guilty look on his face. “Yeah, of course!” </p>
<p>Qui Gon raised his eyebrows. “If you say so.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan flushed. “Just a little nervous. You, uh...you look good,” he added, running a hand through his hair, leaving it hopelessly tousled. </p>
<p>“Thank you.” The black turtleneck and jeans had been the only outfit in his closet he could label more than casual and less than overdressed. He studied Obi Wan for a few minutes, wondering if he should continue with the direct attack. It had worked better than an oblique angle, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He took a deep breath and decided he might as well carry on. </p>
<p>“This the kind of nervous you’d care to talk about, or shall I lay off?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan gave a little huff of laughter. “Wow,” he breathed, “Once you start talking about feelings, you just don’t stop.”</p>
<p>“I will if you want me to.” </p>
<p>“No, no. I’m just...I haven’t been on a date for a long time and you…” Obi Wan swallowed hard, staring down at the carpet. “I just don’t want to blow it.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon was so surprised, he laughed. “I’m sorry,” he said in response to Obi Wan’s panicked look. “It’s just...I was so sure that if one of us was going to blow it, it was going to be me. It’s a bit of a relief to know I’m not the only one who’s worried.” </p>
<p>“I don’t think you’ll blow it,” Obi Wan said. </p>
<p>“Good,” Qui Gon replied, “because I don’t think you will either. So at least we each have someone who thinks well of us.“ He must have said the magic words, because the tension drained out of Obi Wan in an instant. </p>
<p>So,” he added as they walked toward the door, “This is a date?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan looked up at him, one arm into his coat. “Do you want it to be?” </p>
<p>“I think that might be cheating,” Qui Gon said with a chuckle, “but yes, I think I do.” </p>
<p>“Good thing,” Obi Wan grinned, then stepped out into the snow. </p>
<p>The drive was uneventful and passed in companionable silence. At the door to Obi Wan’s place, Qui Gon was greeted with his first shock of the evening. It was opened by a slim, dark-haired woman in a cream sweater. As he looked her over he felt a shock of recognition, even worse, he could see from her widening eyes that she remembered him too. It never felt good to have cover blown, no matter that he didn’t need it anymore. He tried to ignore Obi Wan’s shocked stare and held out a hand. </p>
<p>“Pleasure to meet you again, Madame Ambassador.” </p>
<p>In a moment, Padmé Amidala had recovered herself and gave him a bright smile as she took his hand. “You too, Mr. Jinn. I didn’t expect to see you here, of all places.” She cocked her head on one side, studying him. “I think it suits you,” she added. </p>
<p>“Is Uncle Obi back?” came a child’s voice from inside. </p>
<p>“You’ve met my children, I believe?” Padmé asked as they stepped into the entryway. </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded. “They must be quite a bit older.” </p>
<p>They were. He had a dim memory of an energetic blonde boy and a dark haired, sad-eyed girl, but he was unprepared for the little diplomats that greeted him in the hall. They both stood straight as ramrods, faces composed as though they were at a state dinner. Gravely, the little girl held out her hand. </p>
<p>“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jinn,” she said. </p>
<p>Qui Gon smiled and took her little hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Skywalker,” he said. “The last time I saw you and your brother you were just barely talking.” </p>
<p>“We’ve learned a lot since we were three,” assured the earnest little boy, holding out his hand. “My sister forgot to tell you her name is Leia.” </p>
<p>“I was getting there,” Leia groused. </p>
<p>“And what might your name be, young sir?” Qui Gon asked. </p>
<p>“Luke.” </p>
<p>“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you again, Luke.” </p>
<p>Luke shook his hand, then looked past him to where Padmé and Obi Wan still stood in the doorway. </p>
<p>“Uncle Obi, what’s wrong?” he asked, a frown gathering on his small face. </p>
<p>Obi Wan did his best to pick his jaw up off the floor and pull himself together. “Nothing, sport,” he said, bewildered, “I just didn’t know that you and your mom knew Mr. Jinn, that’s all.” </p>
<p>“Well, if it makes you feel any better, we didn’t know either, until he came to the door,” Padmé said with a smile. “Now, we’d better get all the way inside the house, we can’t have dinner in the hall.” </p>
<p>“I didn’t bring anything,” Qui Gon murmured to Obi Wan as they hung up their coats. </p>
<p>“You were in the hospital,” Obi Wan pointed out, “Besides, Padmé loves playing hostess-I think she likes it better when she can take care of people.” </p>
<p>“Obi Wan, stop whispering in the hall and come pour the wine!” Padmé called from the kitchen. </p>
<p>Qui Gon stood a little awkwardly in the living room as Obi Wan followed orders. Leia, looking up from her book, came to his rescue. </p>
<p>“Mr. Jinn, do you know anything about spiders?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon blinked. “Spiders?” </p>
<p>“Yes. I’m trying to do a science project and I want to pick something interesting. Are spiders interesting?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon settled on the couch beside her. “Well, they produce the strongest substance for its size in the world,” he said. “Does that count?” </p>
<p>Leia’s eyes widened. “I think so! What is it?” </p>
<p>“Their silk, silly!” Luke chimed in from his place on the floor. </p>
<p>Leia stuck out her tongue at him before remembering she had an audience. She looked a little ashamed as she turned back to Qui Gon. “What kind of animal would you be if you could be an animal?” </p>
<p>The question was asked very seriously, so Qui Gon took his time to think of a good answer. “I think I would be a hawk,” he said at last. “A good way up the food chain and able to fly.” </p>
<p>“Why not an eagle, then?” Leia probed, eyes narrowed. </p>
<p>Qui Gon shrugged, “I don’t know. Eagles are too...arrogant, I suppose. Hawks are a bit more subtle. What about you two?” </p>
<p>“Oh, I would be a leopard,” Leia said confidently, “And Luke would be a wolf.” </p>
<p>“You must have thought about it a lot,” Qui Gon said. </p>
<p>“Of course! Doesn’t everyone?” Leia asked. Before he could answer, Luke had asked him his favourite colour. The twins groaned when he said black, but the quizzing didn’t stop there. He was thoroughly cross-examined on everything from his favourite book to his favourite flavour of ice cream. By the time they were called to the table, Qui Gon was pretty sure that these two kids knew more about him than almost anyone else in the world. It was nice, if a bit strange. </p>
<p>Dinner was an elaborate affair, with several vegetable dishes, some sort of pasta concoction, and chicken parmesan. It was delicious, but Qui Gon found himself unequal to the task after so many days on hospital rations. He did his best, however, and praised the cooking. </p>
<p>“We all helped,” Luke offered, “But Leia and I did the zucchini.” </p>
<p>“The best part of the meal, I think,” Qui Gon replied with a smile. </p>
<p>Leia frowned. “Are you telling the truth?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon chuckled. “What would make you think I wasn’t?” </p>
<p>Leia blinked. “Well...Mama’s chicken was the best part, so…”</p>
<p>“For you,” Qui Gon replied with a shrug, “But everyone’s taste buds are different and mine are still recovering from being quite sick. Besides, I appreciated the artistry of the zucchini.” </p>
<p>Padmé coughed into her plate and Obi Wan did his best to hide a smile in his beard. Leia’s frown deepened. </p>
<p>“I think you’re making fun of me, Mr. Jinn.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon lifted his eyebrows. “Because I told you I liked your food?” </p>
<p>“No, because Mama’s trying not to laugh at me.” She shot a glare at her mother that could have withered an oak tree.</p>
<p>“No, I don’t think she’s laughing at you,” Qui Gon said, taking another bite of the zucchini. “I think it brings your mother joy to see you using all the critical thinking skills she’s taught you. It makes grownups feel funny when children say things they’ve heard from their parents.” </p>
<p>“Is that true, Mama?” Leia demanded of her mother. </p>
<p>Padmé smiled. “Yes, I think Mr. Jinn is a very perceptive gentleman.” </p>
<p>“So you like the zucchini?” Luke asked as his sister looked down at her plate. </p>
<p>“Very much,” Qui Gon said. </p>
<p>The children helped with the washing up and were giving grudging permission to sit up with the adults for a while while they had tea. They made a valiant attempt, but it was only nine when Luke had to start stifling a yawn. Padmé checked her watch. </p>
<p>“Time for two Skywalkers to get ready for bed,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. Luke looked like he was ready to argue, but his mother forestalled him. “Teeth brushed, pyjamas on, glasses of water poured, then you can come say goodnight.” </p>
<p>The twins grumbled a little, but did as they were told. It warmed Qui Gon’s heart to see the obvious affection among the little family. He had seen a lot of families in his time, but seldom one where everyone seemed to get on so well. Both children had handshakes for him, but Leia hesitated as her brother leapt into his uncle’s bear hug. </p>
<p>“Did you really like the zucchini, Mr. Jinn,” she said, so quietly he could hardly hear her. Qui Gon set his tea aside and took her small hands in his. </p>
<p>“Miss Leia, do I have any reason to lie to you?” he asked gently. </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Leia said and Qui Gon was shocked to see tears growing in her wide blue eyes. </p>
<p>“Now, don’t cry,” he said, passing her his handkerchief. “It’s sometimes difficult to trust people, isn’t it?” </p>
<p>She nodded, sniffling a little as she wiped her eyes. </p>
<p>“Well, then let’s make a deal, you and I,” Qui Gon said, looking her right in the eye. “I promise that I’ll always tell you the truth, if you can promise the same to me. Can you do that?” </p>
<p>Leia nodded. </p>
<p>“Alright. You want to test me?” </p>
<p>Leia’s eyes widened. “How did you know?” she whispered. </p>
<p>Qui Gon smiled. “Because I’d test out a deal like that if it was me.” </p>
<p>Leia’s eyes narrowed. “Do you love Uncle Obi?” she asked, going straight for the kill shot. It was a little surreal to be having the conversation with a ten year old, but Qui Gon supposed he had done this to himself. </p>
<p>“I don’t know if I love him yet or not,” he said. “But I can say that I like him quite a bit.” </p>
<p>Leia nodded. “I think if you were lying you’d have just said yes. Do you want to test me?” she asked, head tilted to one side just like her mother. </p>
<p>“Sure,” Qui Gon agreed. “Did I manage to make a good impression tonight?” </p>
<p>Leia grinned, “Oh, that’s an easy one! Mama and Uncle Obi already like you, and you, Luke and I are all friends now.” </p>
<p>“I’m glad to hear it,” Qui Gon replied, “I can tell you’re a good friend to have, Miss Leia. Now, are your mother and your uncle staring at us?” </p>
<p>Leia’s eyes darted toward the sofa and she nodded. “Then you’d better make your exit and give your hugs,” he said, squeezing her hands a little before letting them go. To his mingled surprise and discomfort, Leia lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. </p>
<p>“Thank you, Mr. Jinn,” she said into his turtleneck. </p>
<p>Qui Gon blinked. “For what?” </p>
<p>“It’s good to have someone to trust.” </p>
<p>He patted her on the back, highly conscious that he was being watched by the other two adults in the room. “Off to bed with you, miss,” he said, a little more gruffly than he had intended. The girl didn’t seem to notice, just skipped off into her uncle’s arms. </p>
<p>Qui Gon saw Padmé watching him from across the room and he sighed, wondering how on earth he’d managed to make a trust pact with a ten year old. Her mother must think he was crazy. He had so thoroughly convinced himself of this that he was surprised when Padmé came back from tucking the twins into bed and sat down on the sofa beside him. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” she said softly, wrapping her hands tightly around her mug of tea. </p>
<p>“You’re welcome, I’m sure,” Qui Gon replied, “though I’m not sure what for.” </p>
<p>Padmé looked over at him with a watery smile. “Luke and Leia have had a tough few years since their father passed. My job...well, it doesn’t make it easy on them. Leia’s been...very anxious. I think she understands the idea of truth and lies, but she’s quite convinced that adults aren’t being honest with her.” </p>
<p>“Seems quite reasonable in the diplomatic world,” Qui Gon said. </p>
<p>“But she isn’t a diplomat, she’s a child,” Padmé said firmly, “and I haven’t known what to do to help her be a child. She’s got all this knowledge in her head, and no way to process it. So thank you for helping her with this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her go to sleep that easily. She told me you two had made a deal?” </p>
<p>She didn’t ask what it had been, but Qui Gon thought it was best to tell her anyway. “Yes. We agreed to tell each other the truth. She asked me a difficult question and was satisfied with the answer.” </p>
<p>Padmé’s eyebrows nearly shot off her forehead. “A difficult question?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon’s eyes flicked over to where Obi Wan sat in a squashy arm chair by the fire. “Yes. A question I’d rather keep it to myself, if you don’t mind.” </p>
<p>“Of...of course.” </p>
<p>Mercifully, Padmé didn’t press him on that, or anything else about how he had gone from providing security services on parliament hill to reading books in a cabin in the Crow's Nest Pass. He could see she was curious, but they managed to spend the evening chatting pleasantly about the twins’ upcoming school plans and the new construction projects on their street in Ottawa. </p>
<p>Qui Gon made as valiant an effort as the twins, but he couldn’t help the weariness that settled over him as the night wore on. The company was excellent and the conversation interesting, but it had been nearly a week since he’d slept in his own bed and every part of his body was busy telling him off for staying up late when he could have been resting. After one dangerously long blink, he sighed and put his cup aside. </p>
<p>“I think I had better take myself off home,” he said, rising from his seat. </p>
<p>“Of course,” Obi Wan said, practically leaping from the armchair. “Let me run you home.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon opened his mouth to refuse, but was won over by the eagerness in Obi Wan’s face. “Sure.” </p>
<p>Sitting in the truck in the wake of Padmé's courteous goodbye, Qui Gon felt as though he could finally breathe. Perhaps he hadn’t gotten into too much trouble after all. </p>
<p>“Was it a good first date?” Obi Wan asked softly as they pulled into the driveway of the cabin. </p>
<p>“I thought so.” </p>
<p>The two of them sat in the truck in silence for a long time. Qui Gon wasn’t sure what to say next, or what to do. He could only feel the tension rolling off of Obi Wan in thick waves and sat there wondering what he’d done wrong. Once the cold started to settle into his ribs and stiffen the muscles, he reached across the bench seat and took Obi Wan’s gloved hand in his. </p>
<p>“What’s on your mind, cowboy?” he asked, staring out the windshield as snow began to swirl in the headlights. </p>
<p>“A lot,” Obi Wan admitted with a long sigh. </p>
<p>“Want to think about it inside?” </p>
<p>“Shit, Qui Gon, I’m sorry,” Obi Wan said, pulling his hand away, “I didn’t even think about it being cold as a witch’s tit in here, I just-” he hesitated, waving ineffectually as he fished for words. </p>
<p>“Come on in, then,” Qui Gon said, “I can offer you a drink, at least.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan didn’t look pleased about it, but he followed him up the steps to the door. Qui Gon fumbled a bit with the keys, but managed to let them in and flicked on the entry light. Obi Wan stood uncertainly on the threshold while he went to turn up the heat. When he came back, the man looked positively miserable, hands shoved deep in his coat pockets and staring at the floor. </p>
<p>“Do you want to come in?” Qui Gon asked. Obi Wan shook his head. </p>
<p>“No, no, I don’t want to keep you up, you look tired.” </p>
<p>“I am,” Qui Gon agreed, “but you’ve got me a little worried I blew it after all.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “No, no, not at all!” </p>
<p>“I don’t think you did either,” Qui Gon said, stepping closer, “so what’s got you all rattled?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan blinked, getting a little pink around the ears. “Because I think I might be about to?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon raised an eyebrow. “Try me.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan moved close enough for Qui Gon to smell his cologne, then stood on tiptoe and kissed him. It wasn’t what he had expected, but it was nice all the same. He bent into the kiss, taking in the warmth of another body next to his, the bitter tang of the tea mingling on their tongues. </p>
<p>“Yeah, I still don’t think you blew it,” he murmured when their lips parted. </p>
<p>“You sure?” Obi Wan asked, a little breathless. </p>
<p>“Pretty sure. You going to grill me, like Leia?” Qui Gon teased. </p>
<p>“No, I trust you,” Obi Wan insisted, “I just...yeah. I don’t think I realized how bad I want this to be...something.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon bent his head and laid a kiss on the man’s cheek. “Well, I think this is something.” </p>
<p>They stood close to each other in the hall for several long moments, until Obi Wan looked down at his watch. “I guess I’d better go,” he said. “Padmé will start to worry.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon smiled. “I think she’ll be waiting up for the report.” To his delight, Obi Wan blushed. </p>
<p>“Probably.” </p>
<p>“Go on, then,” Qui Gon said, “I’ll see you at the Ghost tomorrow.” </p>
<p>“Okay,” Obi Wan’s smile was pure sunshine and Qui Gon felt something crack inside him, letting a little warmth seep into his bones. “See you tomorrow.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon shook his head as he watched the red glow of the Ford’s taillights fade into the darkness. “Yep,” he whispered, “I think trouble’s exactly what I’m in.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Spring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Spring</b>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Once the earth had shed her frost/We saw exactly what we’d lost”</i>
</p>
<p>Winter gave up its grasp on the Crowsnest pass like a jealous lover. Storms would break over the mountain in fitful bursts, only to be succeeded by brilliant sunshine in a cloudless sky that made Obi Wan’s heart ache with its beauty. He hadn’t realised how much the long winter had been weighing on his soul until he could step outside and breathe in the sweet scent of the world coming back to life. New beginnings were everywhere, and the promise of the season had him walking with an extra spring in his step, despite the chill that remained in the air. </p>
<p>Along with the springtime came a return to the work he loved, and he’d passed in his notice at the Holy Ghost a few weeks before. April was calving season, and he knew he was going to need all of his time to be watchful. There weren’t many head in the herd he had inherited with the place, but it was enough to keep him busy. He’d put in as much time as he could to get ready, now all there was to do was wait and hope all the births went smoothly. </p>
<p>It was something special to bring life into the world, and he let out a contented sigh as he leaned against the fence and watched the sun set over the mountains. </p>
<p>“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much smile on a face before.” <br/>Obi Wan jumped, startled out of his reverie, and turned to see Qui Gon standing on the driveway behind him. His long, lean frame was lined in fire from the last of the sunlight, and his hair swirled in the breeze. He had remained rigorously clean-shaven, but Obi Wan had been secretly delighted that he’d let his hair grow in the last few months. It softened the sharp lines of his face and brought out the kindness in his eyes. </p>
<p>“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Qui Gon said, and Obi Wan realized he had been staring. </p>
<p>“It’s those sneaky spy skills,” he replied, not ready to give up looking just yet. </p>
<p>“Old habits.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon came towards him, hands in the pocket of his leather jacket. Obi Wan felt his mouth go dry. He still couldn’t quite believe that this mysterious mountain man had been walking down the hill to his place for dinner nearly every evening since January and seeing him still made it a little tough to breathe. </p>
<p>“You’re a little early,” he said, for something to say. Qui Gon gave a sheepish shrug. </p>
<p>“You said last night that this was busy season for you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan laughed. “Oh, I’m alright,” he said, “but if you come a little earlier tomorrow, I’ll still press you into service.” </p>
<p>“Don’t know that I’ll be much help,” Qui Gon replied, leaning down to kiss him gently on the cheek, “but I’ll come anyway.”</p>
<p>A hot shiver raced down Obi Wan’s spine and he swallowed hard. “Thanks.” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Rain slashed through the pass the next night, driven by a cruel northwest wind that passed through Obi Wan’s clothes as if they were paper. Most of the cattle had huddled up together under the shelter of some willows at the bottom of the hill near the riverbank, and he huddled deeper into his coat as he and Qui Gon walked down the hill toward them. One of the cows had calved in the night before, and  aside from checking on the other mamas, he wanted to make sure the new calf was managing alright in this spring squall. </p>
<p>It should have been a routine check. The calf had been fine during the day, it had been up and walking, sucking greedily at its mother’s udder, and blinking slowly at the new world. They should have taken a look and walked back up the hill for dinner. Instead, the closer they drew to the herd, the harder Obi Wan’s heart began beating in his chest. Over the howling of the wind, he heard a panicked lowing that set his teeth on edge. Cows were mostly quiet creatures. They stood around, chewed their cud, made the odd snuffle and snort, and raised their voices to greet whoever brought them grain. This sound was different. When they reached the hollow behind the trees where the cattle had hunkered down to wait out the storm, Obi Wan saw that the long, panicked sounds came from number 52, the mother who had given birth the night before. The little red and white bundle she’d had huddled at her side all day was nowhere to be found. </p>
<p>He swore softly and motioned for Qui Gon to join him out of the wind. </p>
<p>“Can you check these ones over?” he asked, shouting to be heard over the sound of the storm. </p>
<p>“Check them for what?” Qui Gon asked, wide-eyed. </p>
<p>“Check them for trouble-trust me, you’ll know it when you see it. 52 is missing her calf, I need to have a look around.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded, and loped off toward the herd while he turned toward the river. Poor 52’s frantic sounds only grew as he got close to her. </p>
<p>“Come on, girl,” he muttered, patting her on the shoulder, “settle down, now. Where’s your little guy?” </p>
<p>52 tossed her head and set off at a prodigious pace toward the riverbank. As they stumbled together through the bush, Obi Wan thought he could hear a higher pitched lowing over the sound of the water. After slipping and sliding down the muddy bank, Obi Wan looked across the water and began to swear. </p>
<p>The river was high with the spring runoff, running fast and deep. Against all odds, the little calf had managed to pick its way across the one of the many fords and couldn’t find its way back. As much as he liked cattle, he had to admit they were pretty stupid. Walking across had worked on the way over, and it should work on the way back, but the little bugger just stood there crying for its mother, utterly incapable of finding its way back. </p>
<p>Even at its deepest, the river only came as high as his waist, but it was cold as ice as he began to wade across. As his legs went numb, he began to think he might have been a little stupid himself, but he was halfway across and wasn’t about to turn back now. Besides, if the calf didn’t make it back to the protection of the herd, it was easy pickings for the coyotes and wolves that roamed the pass. The thought kept him moving ahead one slow step at a time, fighting for his balance against the current. </p>
<p>“Try farming,” he whispered through chattering teeth. “It’ll be fun. Livestock is great, animals are so...fucking...nice…” His feet felt like wooden blocks on the smooth rocks of the opposite bank, and he struggled to keep upright. The calf stood shivering on the bank and made no move to resist as he stumbled over to it and picked it up in his arms. The little creature huddled into him for warmth, still calling for its mother. </p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” he growled, forcing himself back into the icy river. </p>
<p>The calf lay calm in his arms until he had almost reached the middle of the river. When the cold water began swirling around its legs, however, it began to kick and struggle, turning from a solid creature to what felt like a bag of angry snakes. </p>
<p>“Oh, for God’s sake!” Obi Wan grunted as the calf’s pointed little hooves connected with his thighs. “Stop kicking, you little bastard, or I swear I’ll dump you in this river and let you float all the way to Manitoba!” </p>
<p>His cursing and threats did little good, however, and as his steps became slower, the calf kicked harder. He didn’t consider himself a weak man, but fighting the current and the calf was more than he could take, and he breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the shallows again and the calf slipped from his arms and ran back toward its mother. </p>
<p>The glow of success warmed him for a moment, but as he tried to follow the calf, a rock turned under him. He wavered, searching for footing and trying to keep himself upright, but the current was relentless, sweeping off his feet and dropping him face first into the water. </p>
<p>The cold hit him like a hammer blow to the head, slamming the air from his lungs. The water wasn’t deep, but he felt himself floundering, his muscles turned to lead. It was a pretty stupid way to die, tripping in the river like an idiot, but for a moment he was sure that would be his fate. He could feel the pounding of his pulse in his head, the burning in his lungs as he struggled to get upright, slapping clumsily against water and rock.  </p>
<p>He hoped it wouldn’t hurt to drown. </p>
<p>* </p>
<p>Qui Gon had waited after checking the rest of the herd. He hadn’t seen any ‘trouble’, as far as he could tell, but as the minutes ticked on in his head, he began to think Obi Wan might have found enough for both of them. </p>
<p>The trail that man and cow had taken down toward the river was as easy to follow as a paved road, and he came through the trees on the bank just as Obi Wan lost his footing and plunged into the water. </p>
<p>With a distant part of himself, he was terrified, but he didn’t allow the panic in. It had been a few years since his last open water rescue, but his body still moved as though it had been yesterday. In a moment, he had picked out the cow and calf chewing placidly at the long reeds on the bank. No threat there, just the rocks and the water. As he made his way toward the place Obi Wan had gone under, he kept hoping he’d see the man come up for air, but all he saw was thrashing, churning water. </p>
<p>He would have preferred a rope, but there wasn’t time, so he stripped off his jacked and looped it around the trunk of a young sapling on the bank. It wouldn’t Obi Wan any good if he lost his own footing and they ended up in the water together. The frantic part of him thought it would be a poetic way to die, but he tied a sleeve tight around his wrist and began to wade into the water as fast as he could. It wasn’t far, but the current was quick, and he was glad of his preparations as he finally caught hold of Obi Wan’s collar and hauled his head above water. </p>
<p>“Damn you, Kenobi,” he hissed as the man began to cough and splutter, “what the hell were you thinking?” </p>
<p>With a heave, he got his left arm around Obi Wan’s chest and began to make his way toward the bank. His right side burned with the effort, but he ignored it. Obi Wan was still gasping for air and coughing up river water as they made the safety of the bank. A trickle of blood crept from under his hairline, bright against his pale face.  As Qui Gon laid him on the bank and checked him over for other signs of injury, he began to shiver. </p>
<p>Finding nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises, Qui Gon took a moment to sit back on his heels and assess his options. It didn’t take wilderness medic training to see that hypothermia was setting in and Obi Wan needed to get dry as soon as possible. They both did. “You know,” he grunted as he stooped to haul Obi Wan over his shoulders in a fireman carry, “If you’d wanted me to cook, you only had to ask.” </p>
<p>It had seemed like such a short walk down from the house, but with the rain turning to sleet and the wind howling at his back, the uphill climb seemed to take a hundred years. Obi Wan had stopped coughing, but he was still shaking like a leaf in a gale, making it difficult to hold him steady. “This would have been a lot easier, if you weren’t such a stocky bastard,” he panted as he reached the gravel drive. </p>
<p>Thankfully, Obi Wan never locked his door, so it was a simple enough task to get him into the house and up to his bed. Taking one look at the soaked chore clothes, Qui Gon didn’t even bother trying to take them off. He just purloined a pair of kitchen scissors and cut them off. He’d take the cussing out later. </p>
<p>Obi Wan looked like a boiled lobster as he towled him down, doing his best to keep his mind on the task at hand, not the alluring form under his hands. He didn’t bother trying to find pyjamas in the chaotic, cluttered bedroom, just bundled Obi Wan into bed with as many blankets as possible. He hoped it would be enough, but built a fire just to be safe, before gathering up the mess of wet clothing and towels and throwing them in the dryer. </p>
<p>The table had been set in the kitchen, and there were delicious smells coming from a casserole dish in the oven, but he ignored them, putting the kettle on before going back down the hall to check on his friend. To his relief, Obi Wan’s eyes were open. His brows drew together as Qui Gon sat down on the side of the bed. </p>
<p>“Didn’t….d-didn’t drown?” </p>
<p>“No, though you were making a good effort.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan’s laugh came as a series of little gasps, punctuated by each violent shiver. </p>
<p>“C-cold,” he said, with an attempt at a smile. It looked ghastly, but Qui Gon just nodded.</p>
<p>“Yes. I’m trying to warm you up.” </p>
<p>“D-did you…c-close...g-gate?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon frowned. “Which gate? The one at the top of the hill?” </p>
<p>“Yeah-h.” </p>
<p>He sighed. Of course he hadn’t closed the gate. He’d had his hands a little full with an idiot farmer and was on the point of saying so, but Obi Wan looked so miserable he didn’t have the heart for it. </p>
<p>“I forgot,” he said, “I’ll go get it right now.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded and closed his eyes, snuggling deeper into the blankets. </p>
<p>The sleet still fell in wet slaps across the ground as he walked toward the gate. It was only as he was forcing the loop of wire over the gate post that he remembered he had left his jacket tied to the tree on the river bank. It was a shame, considering that his sweater was no match for the sleet. By the time he’d reached the safety of the house again, he was soaked. </p>
<p>“You wouldn’t happen to have a spare shirt somewhere in this rabbit warren, would you?” he asked as he came back into the bedroom, stripping off his sodden sweater. </p>
<p>There was no reply, and he turned toward the bed to see Obi Wan staring at him over the blankets. Slowly, deliberately, he shook his head. “ ‘S l-laundry d-day.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon gave him a look, trying to ignore the sudden tightness in his throat. “Unbelievable.” </p>
<p>“D-d-din-ner in the ov-ven, th-though,” Obi Wan whispered. <br/>“Right. Thanks.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon found the last towel in the linen cupboard and dried himself off as best he could before fleeing to the refuge of the kitchen. The source of the delicious smells turned out to be a potato casserole, and he served himself up a hearty scoop to have along with his tea. Like all of Obi Wan’s cooking, it was exquisite, and had the added benefit of warming him from the inside out. </p>
<p>He took his time with the meal, unable to take his mind off the way Obi Wan’s eyes had travelled over his chest. He’d been doing that a lot more in recent weeks, and Qui Gon hadn’t quite figured out how he felt about it. He knew there was something about being watched with such blatant desire that made him feel as though he had fire ants under his skin, but that wasn’t the difficult part. It was the look in Obi Wan’s eyes, the way his whole face glowed as though he was looking at a stunning work of art instead of a man. Qui Gon certainly didn’t feel like an art piece, and it brought up every thought he’d ever tried to shove aside about not being worthy enough for that kind of attention. </p>
<p>He set his dishes in the sink before pouring himself a second cup of tea. Now that his sense of urgency was wearing off, he could slowly open the door to the part of him that had wanted to panic. He shivered a little, despite the warmth in the room. Panic hadn’t visited him in a long time, and he wasn’t sure he cared for the reunion. He was old friends with adrenaline; it was a tool and an ally. Panic, on the other hand, panic threatened to freeze him, to dull his reflexes and get him in trouble. </p>
<p>Changes were inevitable with retirement, of course, he knew that, but they had been coming hard and fast since he had met Obi Wan, and he wasn’t sure how to handle them. With a sigh, he poured a cup of tea for his patient and made his way back to the bedroom. Enemies, he knew how to handle, but friends were a whole new challenge. </p>
<p>“Th-thought you’d a-abandoned me,” Obi Wan said with a weak smile.</p>
<p>“I fished you out of a river,” Qui Gon said calmly,” I don’t think you need to worry about abandonment.” He set their tea on the bedside table before dragging a chair up to the bedside. “How are you feeling?” </p>
<p>“S-still c-cold.” Obi Wan’s smile faded into his pale face. His shivering hadn’t hardly slowed down at all and Qui Gon frowned. </p>
<p>“No warmer at all?” he asked. </p>
<p>“A little,” Obi Wan admitted. “But, I h-have to s-say,” he added, a mischievous look creeping into his eyes, “I d-don’t think-k y-you’re t-trying v-very h-hard.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon’s eyebrows lifted. “What?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan gave another breathless, gasping laugh. “If this was-s a s-spy m-movie, y-you’d b-be in b-bed w-with m-me by n-now.” </p>
<p>“Lucky for you, this isn’t a spy movie.” He tried his best to be disapproving, but it was a hopeless effort and they both knew it. Obi Wan looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. </p>
<p>“B-but I’m s-still c-cold.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon sighed. “Really? I’ve been coming to your house for dinner for months and this is how you ask me to bed with you?” </p>
<p>“ ‘s r-really c-cold.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan stared at him, unblinking, and Qui Gon felt a flush creep over his cheeks. He swallowed hard, breaking eye contact. </p>
<p>“I should take care of that cut on your head.” </p>
<p>Thankfully, the cut was fairly minor and had only bled like scalp wounds always did. Qui Gon used a warm washcloth to clean the blood from Obi Wan’s face and hair. </p>
<p>“You’ll have a pretty impressive bruise,” he murmured, focusing on the slow, steady movement of his hands. </p>
<p>“W-would’v-ve b-been a l-lot w-worse if-f you hadn’t-t f-fished m-me out.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded. The thought of how much worse it could have been gave him a horrible, sick feeling in his belly that he didn’t want to examine too closely. The froth and splash of the water played on an endless loop in his mind, and he shook his head, trying to wipe the image away. </p>
<p>“Hell of a day to go for a swim,” he said, settling back into his chair. </p>
<p>Obi Wan laughed, “Y-yeah.” </p>
<p>They sat quietly for a while, Obi Wan shivering away under his pile of blankets, though Qui Gon was pleased to see it had lessened. The warmth was doing its job, and he let himself relax a little, confident that they were through the worst. </p>
<p>“You’re not g-getting in here, are you?” Obi Wan said at last. </p>
<p>Qui Gon shook his head. “No.” </p>
<p>“W-will I be out of l-line if I ask why?” </p>
<p>“Of course not.” </p>
<p>“W-why, then?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon considered the question carefully. There were quite a few reasons, many of which he didn’t feel able to fully articulate, but he settled on the ethical one. </p>
<p>“Because you’re hypothermic, and possibly delirious. I’ve been that way, and it’s a little like being drunk. I’d hate to feel that I’d taken advantage of you in any way.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan rolled his eyes. “I’m not a d-damsel in d-distress.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon raised an eyebrow. “You look pretty distressed to me. Besides,” he added, rising from his chair, “you’ll need to sleep. You’ve put that body of yours through quite the evening.” </p>
<p>He put out the lamp and was about to leave, when Obi Wan caught him by the hand. His grip was still cool, but he no longer felt like a block of ice, which was a comfort. </p>
<p>“W-will you stay with me, at l-least?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon sighed. “If you’d like me to, then yes.” </p>
<p>“Good.” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Obi Wan woke to the warmth of the sun on his face and stiffness in every limb. He blinked, trying to get his bearings. There was a heavy weight on top of him, and one arm had gone to sleep. In the dim light, he saw that there were still long, elegant fingers entwined in his. Qui Gon still sat in the same chair he’d occupied the night before, staring out the window at the dawn. The sliver of sunlight that peeked through the curtains painted a golden slash across his chest to match the raised, red line that ran along his side. </p>
<p>“Morning.” His voice was soft, and it sent a pleasant line of warmth down Obi Wan’s back. </p>
<p>“Morning. Did you sit there all night?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon just shrugged. “You asked me to stay.” </p>
<p>“I did?” Dim memories of the night before came back to him in short bursts. The river, the calf, the cold, the bed, the… “Oh.” He sat up slowly, being as gentle as he could on his protesting muscles. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“Don’t be.” Qui Gon slid his hand away at last and rose from the chair. Obi Wan noted with just a hint of envy that his every movement was smooth and supple. “If I hadn’t wanted to stay with you, I would have left.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” Obi Wan ran his fingers through his hair, still trying to sort through what exactly had happened yesterday. </p>
<p>“Go on and get dressed,” Qui Gon said, “I’ll fix us some breakfast.” </p>
<p>Left on his own with his memories, Obi Wan flopped back on the bed with a groan. Qui Gon kept reassuring him that there was no way he could mess this up, but he wasn’t so sure. He felt like nearly drowning and then propositioning his rescuer might be a good start. Even worse, he was naked, and he was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten out of his clothes by himself. He blushed furiously as his imagination supplied ample imagery to explain the missing details in his memories. </p>
<p>“Fuck.” </p>
<p>He hauled himself out of bed and pulled on a tshirt and a pair of jeans before heading to the kitchen and face his embarrassment head on. </p>
<p>“I know I said I was going to fix breakfast,” Qui Gon said when he came into the kitchen, “but all you have are bran flakes.” He looked up from his perusal of the fridge, blue eyes dancing. “Shall we head into town?” </p>
<p>“Sure.” Obi Wan smiled, “But you should probably put a shirt on first.” It made him feel a little better about himself to see Qui Gon blush. </p>
<p>“Right. I think my sweater’s in the dryer.” </p>
<p>When he came back, pulling his sweater over his head, he looked as though he’d regained a bit of his composure. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked. </p>
<p>Obi Wan shrugged. “Like I went to a hell of a yoga class, but other than that I think I’m alright.” He was also knee deep in shame, but didn’t know how to say so, so he just said, “Thanks, by the way. For...for everything.” </p>
<p>“It was no trouble.” </p>
<p>“I feel like it might have been a bit of trouble.” </p>
<p>“A little worry, a little rain,” Qui Gon said, shrugging into his coat, “Nothing major.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan scoffed and shook his head. “Look, I know nice things are hard and all, but I’m trying to thank you for saving my life, Qui Gon. You just have to say ‘you’re welcome’, that’s it.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon looked down at him, head tilted to one side. “You’re welcome, then,” he said. There was a curious look in his eyes that Obi Wan had never seen before. It was sharper, almost wary. </p>
<p>“And I do want to apologize for...for whatever I said to you last night,” Obi Wan added in a rush, eager to get the awkwardness over with. </p>
<p>Qui Gon sighed. “You don’t need to apologize, Obi Wan,” he said softly. “You were-” </p>
<p>“I think I was one hundred percent serious,” Obi Wan interjected, “and I’m just sorry if I...if I made you uncomfortable.” </p>
<p>For a moment, Qui Gon looked as though he were going to brush the words off again, but then he just gave a tight nod. “Apology accepted.” </p>
<p>“As penance, I’ll let you pick where we eat,” Obi Wan said with a smile. </p>
<p>In truth, it wasn’t much for penance. There were only two competing diners in town, Dex’s and the Magreda, and of the two of them, only Dex’s Diner served breakfast worth eating. The Magreda had tried to keep up for a while, but they’d recently branched into organic stuff that wasn’t much better than the bran flakes they’d left on the farm. Dex’s, on the other hand, served a full ranch breakfast with fried potatoes, eggs, and as many meat sides as a person could ask for. </p>
<p>Rumour swirled around the owner of the place, Dex Jettster. He was an ex-biker, a fact he readily admitted to anyone who asked, but he had the build and the bearing of a man who’d seen his fair share of shady shit. In a little town like Blairemore, a murky past was an invitation for wild speculation, and the diner’s patrons had invented all kinds of stories, from murder to drug smuggling. Obi Wan had never put much stock in the rumours, and after Dex had volunteered to take a few stray kittens off his hands, the two had become fast friends.</p>
<p>“Morning, Dex,” Obi Wan said with a smile as the big man came to take their order. </p>
<p>“Mornin’, Kenobi, what kind of trouble you in today?” Dex grinned under his salt and pepper moustache. </p>
<p>“The hungry kind.” </p>
<p>Dex roared with laughter. “Best kind there is! What can I get you?” </p>
<p>“Couple of Ranch Specials, I think,” Obi Wan replied. </p>
<p>“Brown toast, cubed potatoes,” Qui Gon added. </p>
<p>“And enough coffee to turn your livers black, I know,” Dex finished. “You two should just start sayin’ ‘usual’ or something. I don’t even know why Flo bothers to bring you menus anymore.” </p>
<p>“It’s polite!” called the short woman behind the counter. </p>
<p>“It’s a waste of steps,” Dex joked, picking up their untouched menus and striding back to the kitchen. </p>
<p>“Don’t think I’ve ever been a regular anywhere before,” Qui Gon mused. There was a faraway look in his eyes that Obi Wan had come to expect whenever the prospect of normality began to creep up on them. It was as if, having never truly settled anywhere before, Qui Gon was suspicious of any sign that he had begun to belong, or to matter to someone else. </p>
<p>It was a relief to Obi Wan to think that he wasn’t the only one who inspired this withdrawal. It wasn’t that they hadn’t gotten better at talking to each other. In fact, Obi Wan constantly felt as though he was lagging behind Qui Gon’s sometimes brutal honesty. He was direct about his affection in a way that often made Obi Wan blush, but that affection seemed to have firmly delineated boundaries that weren’t always clear or comfortable. It was like taming a wild cat. Most of the dangerous places were well labeled, but every once in a while, Obi Wan let his feelings run away from him. When he pushed too hard, the claws came out, and it always made him feel like an idiot. </p>
<p>He wrapped his hands around the coffee cup Flo set in front of him, staring down at the steam rising off of it. There must be something to say or do that would take this strange feeling out from between the two of them, but every time he tried to think of what to say, all that came to his mind was the memory of him asking a shirtless and very attractive man to come to bed with him. </p>
<p>“What’s on your mind?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan looked up from his coffee, a flush rising to his cheeks. “Uh… nothing much.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon just looked at him, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “Looks like it.” </p>
<p>“You’re doing that mind reading thing again,” Obi Wan muttered, looking back at his cup. </p>
<p>“I just figured it wasn’t your coffee that was turning the backs of your ears red.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan sighed. “Right. Will it count if I say I don’t know how to talk about what I’m thinking about?” </p>
<p>“By 'count' do you mean, ‘will I leave you alone’?” Qui Gon asked with his shadow smile. </p>
<p>“Kind of.” </p>
<p>“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Qui Gon’s hands wrapped around his, warm and calming. “I just want you to know that it’s alright, what happened last night. I’m not...not upset or anything. I meant what I said,” he added, tightening his grip a little. “If you ask me to bed, I want to be sure you mean it.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan shivered. “I don’t think you can say stuff like that in public,” he said hoarsely. Qui Gon’s thumb was running back and forth along the back of his hand, soothing and distracting all at once. He took a slow breath, getting up the courage to look Qui Gon in the eye. </p>
<p>“So...we’re okay?” he asked. </p>
<p>“Yes. Definitely.” </p>
<p>It was like a warm blanket, hearing the utter confidence in Qui Gon’s voice. Obi Wan felt the tension leak out of his shoulders. “I’m sorry I keep overthinking all of this.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon’s smile finally reached his eyes. “You’re not the only one.” </p>
<p>*<br/>Breakfast was delicious, as always. Once he’d let go of his worry for Obi Wan, Qui Gon felt like he could enjoy the quiet time together. It had become a habit, coming down to Dex’s on the weekends, and he found that the routine didn’t bother him as much as it had to begin with. There was something comfortable about being with Obi Wan, being in familiar places with familiar people. He had come to accept that the nagging voice in the back of his head would probably never leave him, of course, but the screeches of panic that told him he should run for cover had begun to fade into background noise. The fear still lingered, but somewhere in the last few months, running away had ceased to be an option. </p>
<p>All these new feelings began to feel like dire mistakes when the bell above the diner door jingled. He looked up and froze. Distantly, he heard his fork drop to his plate as his arm went into autopilot, reaching down to his hip for a gun that wasn’t there. </p>
<p>Standing in the door, cheeks flushed and hair tousled from the spring wind, was Rael Averross. His hair and beard were streaked with grey, but every other line of him was unchanged from their days in training. Their eyes met, and Averross grinned. Of course he recognized him. He’d stayed in the same place for too long, gotten too comfortable, made himself too vulnerable. </p>
<p>Frozen in place, he watched helplessly as Averross came over to their table, his dark eyes dancing. He was dressed to the nines, as he always was, his thousand dollar leather jacket draped causally over one impeccable shoulder. </p>
<p>“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said in a voice of pure velvet, “if it isn’t just the man I’ve been looking for.” Then, to Qui Gon’s surprise, Averross leaned down into the booth and kissed him full on the mouth. The contact left him stunned, reeling with the uncomfortable knowledge that his old partner still tasted like tobacco and spice. </p>
<p>“They told me you’d fallen off the grid, <i>querido</i>,” Averross purred. </p>
<p>Returning to his senses, Qui Gon rose to his feet. He felt more in control when Averross only came up to his shoulder.</p>
<p>“I did,” he said curtly, “so if you’re here to talk business, you’ve wasted your time.” </p>
<p>Averross’s eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “Truly? I never thought Qui Gon Jinn would be a man to deny a favour. Have you forgotten what you promised me after I pulled you out of that scrape in Barcelona?” </p>
<p>“No.” </p>
<p>Averross smiled. “I’m pleased to hear it.” He looked down at the table, where Obi Wan sat staring up at them in stunned silence. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your charming friend?” There was a predatory look in his eyes that made Qui Gon’s blood boil, and he grabbed his jacket from its hook. </p>
<p>“No. If you want to talk, we’ll do it outside.” He wanted to tell Obi Wan that it was alright, that he would be back, that this man was nothing, but he knew the damage had already been done. </p>
<p>He let the door swing closed behind him, not bothering to wait for Averross. The cool spring air helped to clear his head, and by the time the little Spaniard joined him, he felt back in control of his feelings. </p>
<p>“What is it, Averross?” he demanded. </p>
<p> Averross looked up at him with wide, sorrowful eyes. “That’s not what you used to call me, Qui Gon.” </p>
<p>“That was before Berlin.” </p>
<p>“Oh. Berlin.” For a moment, Averross had the grace to look ashamed. “Yes, I suppose that did change things a bit.” </p>
<p>“A bit,” Qui Gon agreed. “So, what do you want?” </p>
<p>“Like I said, I’m collecting my favour,” Averross had regained his air of breezy confidence. “I’ve got some business in Montreal that’s gotten...a little out of hand. I could use your help.” </p>
<p>“By ‘business’, I presume you mean drugs and by ‘out of hand’ I’m guessing there’s a price out on your head?” Qui Gon translated. </p>
<p>“It sounds so much worse when you say it.” </p>
<p>“It didn’t sound great to start with. What have you done?” </p>
<p>Averross stepped back, placing a dramatic hand on his breast, “Qui Gon, I can’t believe you’d assume I was at fault.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon waited in silence for the act to die out. Eventually, seeing that his bait had been unsuccessful, Averross sighed, tucking his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “I agreed that I would protect the mayor’s daughter,” he said,  “and...that’s gotten impossible in Montreal. It’s bad there, Qui Gon, you have no idea. I’ve done everything I can for the family, but the mafia, you know how they are. They want any kind of collateral they can get, and vulnerable kids are about as good as leverage can get.” When he looked up again, his eyes were dead serious. “I need to get her out of Quebec, Qui Gon, preferably out of Canada altogether, but I’ll settle for the west coast if we have to.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon sighed, running a hand over his brow. “You want me to come to Montreal with you?” </p>
<p>“Yes.” </p>
<p>“Do you have an exit plan?” </p>
<p>“Sort of.” </p>
<p>“Well, that’s better than nothing. Alright. If I help you with this, then I consider my debt paid. Agreed?” </p>
<p>Averross smiled sadly. “Is that a polite way of telling me you don’t want to talk to me again?” </p>
<p>“Yes.” </p>
<p>“Agreed, I suppose. When can we leave?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon looked back to the diner. “I need to let my friend know I’m heading out. Then we can go.” </p>
<p>“You don’t need to...you know...pack things?” Aveross gestured vaguely at his clothes.</p>
<p>“I don’t worry about looking like a movie star, Averross,” Qui Gon replied with a thin smile. “Besides, I don’t expect this to take long.” </p>
<p>He strode back toward the diner, trying not to let his worry and irritation show on his face. His stomach sank as he saw Obi Wan sitting dejectedly in the booth, staring down at his coffee again. </p>
<p>“Hey,” he said as he slid back into the booth. “You still looking for coffee bugs?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan looked up, a slight frown on his face. “What?” </p>
<p>“You were studying that cup pretty closely,” Qui Gon explained, “I figured you must have been hunting for something.” </p>
<p>He was rewarded with a small smile, though Obi Wan still looked upset. Qui Gon tried to be as gentle as he could. </p>
<p>“I need to go away for a while,” he said, hating the way the words sounded like they were pulled out of a trashy novel. </p>
<p>Obi Wan’s frown deepened. “Go away?” </p>
<p>“To Montreal. I’ve got a favour I need to pay back. I shouldn’t be gone long.” </p>
<p>“Oh. Are you...are you going right now?” </p>
<p>“Yes.” </p>
<p>“Um...okay. I’ll see you later, then?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded. “As soon as I get back. Can I get the breakfast bill?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan shook his head. “No, I’ll get it. You go ahead.” </p>
<p>It was all wrong, he could see it all over Obi Wan’s face, but he didn’t know a way to make it better. In fact, he was fairly certain that anything else he might say would just make everything worse, so he put on his best smile and slid out of the booth. </p>
<p>“I’ll see you soon.” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“He just waltzed out of your life on a dime and he was worried about the bill?” Padme’s voice was tinny through the phone, but her anger came through loud and clear. </p>
<p>“Yeah.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan tried to focus on getting dinner ready, letting the steady motion of the knife on the cutting board calm his jangled nerves. He’d sat in the diner for a long time, trying to work out what had just happened. When it came time to summarize it for Padme, he’d gone with ‘the man I’m maybe sort of dating got whisked off into oblivion by some smooth dark Spanish man who walked into the diner and kissed him right in front of me’. He had hoped the summary would make it seem better than he felt. It hadn’t. </p>
<p>“Oh, Obi Wan, I’m so sorry. That is...that's just awful.” </p>
<p>“Well, I’m glad it sounds as awful as it feels,” he said with a sigh, “I was worried I was overreacting.” </p>
<p>“No, I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. That’s a pretty shitty move. I’m surprised, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d do a thing like that.” </p>
<p>“I know. It kind of...well it really took me by surprise. Gobsmacked, that’s the word.” </p>
<p>“Good one.” </p>
<p>“Thanks. But I know you didn’t call to hear about my dating trouble. How are you? How are the twins?”  </p>
<p>Padme sighed. “Honestly, I don’t even know. It turns out I will be living abroad again. Neither of them want to go to London for the spring break. I was actually wondering...but it sounds like this might not be a good time for you, we can sort something out.” </p>
<p>“Padme, you know I’d love to have them out here,” Obi Wan interjected before his friend could talk herself out of the idea. “Besides, this is pretty much the best time. We’ve got chores to do, lots of time outside, and I won’t be distracted by...whatever was going on with the mystery spy.” </p>
<p>“You mean that?” Padme sounded incredulous. “You’re not just trying to make me feel better?” </p>
<p>“Darling, if I wanted to make you feel better, I’d send you chocolate and a lot of red wine. Having the twins for a couple weeks is a treat. If anything, I’m trying to make myself feel better.” </p>
<p>“As long as you’re sure…”</p>
<p>“I’m sure. Put ‘em on a plane and go enjoy tea parties, or whatever ambassadors do in London.” </p>
<p>“I want to say you’re wrong about the tea parties,” Padme said grudgingly, “but it’s too true. Let me just check with the kids and see what they think-”</p>
<p>“Are we going to Uncle Obi’s?” came an excited chorus in the background. Obi Wan smiled. </p>
<p>“I think they’re fine with it,” Padme said wryly. </p>
<p>“Good. Tell them I can’t wait.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Montreal had rocketed into spring, with blossoms and flowers on every street coroner. Qui Gon half wished he could see them, but instead he was looking at the inside of a dingy motel room, trying his best to ignore Averross’s staring. He was vaguely alarmed at how easily he had settled back into the rhythm of clandestine life, checking his back, committing plates, faces, shoes, and surroundings to memory. It felt comfortable, like putting on an old jacket. In the last 48 hours his time in Alberta had faded into the back of his mind, a memory of something that had happened to someone else a long time ago. </p>
<p>“You’re very quiet, <i>querido</i>,” Averross said from across the room. </p>
<p>“Mm.” </p>
<p>Averross laughed. “Are you going to stay in a room with me for a week without talking to me?” </p>
<p>“What do we have to talk about, Averross?” Qui Gon said with a sigh. </p>
<p>“The past? The present? The weather?” Averross gestured at the awful wallpaper. “The decor? Anything is better than sitting here watching you brood.” </p>
<p>“The past is over, the present is dull, the weather is unremarkable, and the decor is revolting,” Qui Gon said, still staring out the window. “If you wanted a conversation partner, you should have called in a different favour.”</p>
<p>Averross gave a dramatic sigh, draping himself over his chair. “Can we talk about your pretty friend?” he asked with a smirk. </p>
<p>“No.” </p>
<p>“You’re awfully cagey about it,” Averross teased, “Makes me think you might have replaced me.” </p>
<p>“There was nothing to replace.” </p>
<p>“Oh, you are a cruel man,” Averross laughed again, “Who would you be brooding over if it wasn’t me? You can’t tell me you didn’t miss me, I won’t believe you.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon ground his teeth. He knew he was being baited, and he tried his best to keep his tone calm and even, knowing that the sharp words in his mind were just what Averross wanted. </p>
<p>“I think I missed an idea of you,” he said at last, “someone that I had imagined to be real, but who turned out to be nothing more than smoke and shadows.” </p>
<p>“Hm. I didn’t know we were getting so serious.” Averross sat up on the chair, looking at him very straight. “You thought I was a loyal dog, just like you?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon shook his head. “No. I thought you had my back. I thought it was the two of us against the world.” He shrugged, pushing aside painful memories. “I was wrong.” </p>
<p>“I think that’s an overly simplified version of events.” Aveross murmured. </p>
<p>“Not really. Just the uncomfortable one. I know you had your reasons, I think you even told me at the time. I’m sure they made sense to you, maybe even seemed like reason.” Qui Gon turned away from the window, finally looking Averross in the face. “But we had something together that you chose to let go. I wasn’t prepared to be left on a Berlin street corner again and so here we are.” </p>
<p>Averross looked down, a rueful smile on his face. “Simplified and harsh,” he said. </p>
<p>“Am I wrong?” </p>
<p>“Not really, no. Every once in a while, I think about what would have happened, if…” he trailed off shaking his head. “But no. You are a good soldier. Perhaps,” he added with an elaborate shrug, “we were both in love with an idea.” </p>
<p>“All the same,” he continued after Qui Gon said nothing in reply, “I have missed you,<i> querido</i>. I thought time might have changed you, but...<i>dios mio</i>…” </p>
<p>“Stop.” </p>
<p>“What? I can’t compliment you?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon rolled his eyes. “I’d prefer if you didn’t.”</p>
<p>He was saved from further comment by the slam of a car door in the parking lot. Gravel crunches under heavy footsteps and they could hear a murmur of low voices. </p>
<p>All trace of flirtation gone, Rael rose to his feet and crossed the room to the door. “It’s them,” he whispered, “be ready.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon didn’t need to be told twice. They had arranged this drop with the mayor’s butler, a stolid, reliable man in his late sixties who agreed with them that killing little kids was a low down game. It would be a quick handover and, provided everything went well, the mayor’s daughter would be on her way to British Columbia in less than an hour. </p>
<p>Rael opened the door to the butler’s knock, and spoke quietly through the crack. With a quick jerk of his head, he called Qui Gon over to him. </p>
<p>“Marcel says everything is clear. The girl is in the car. We get in, we drive, nice and simple, like we talked about.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded, but something in Rael's manner made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up. He couldn’t say what it was that gave him the hint, whether it was the glint in his old friend’s eye, or the well-honed instincts of a life of mistrust. Whichever it was, he knew the elbow was coming to connect with the side of his head before Rael began the motion. He stepped in close, shoving his shoulder into the other man’s armpit, and stood up, heaving the slight Averross over his shoulder and into the wall. </p>
<p>“God damn you,” he hissed, wasting no more than a glance at his old friend's crumpled form. At least this time, when he reached for his gun, it was right where he needed it to be. He drew it on the butler, who raised his hands, eyes wide. </p>
<p>“I-I have no idea...-wh-what?”  </p>
<p>“Just stay inside,” Qui Gon growled, shouldering past him out the door, half expecting to see an empty parking lot. Somehow, he would have felt better about everything if Rael had just spun him a line to trap him for someone else. It would have been a hell of a lot easier to ditch and run, but instead of an empty parking lot he saw a plain black sedan parked near the flashing motel sign. Illuminated in the neon glow was a little girl in the passenger seat. </p>
<p>“Fuck.” </p>
<p>Of course, it had to be the worst possible option. There was a real kid, who probably belonged to the real mayor of Montreal, and who really did need help. Averross had shopped them both. He hit the pavement in a roll and came up gun first, catching the first of the black clad figures in the shoulder with a well-placed shot. Before the body had hit the ground, he had begun the sprint to the car, running in a tight zig zag and praying for all he was worth. </p>
<p>Pain exploded in his shoulder just as he reached the sedan, but he ignored it, wrenching the door open and falling into the driver’s seat. The little girl might have screamed, he wasn’t sure. It might have been something inside of him, shrill and panicked. He threw the sedan into reverse and walked on the gas. Just get in the car and drive. Simple. </p>
<p>*<br/>“You two bring your roadtrip books?” Obi Wan asked as the twins followed him out of the airport. </p>
<p>“Of course!” Luke replied, “That’s the best part. Think we’ll break the bird count record this trip?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan looked up at the sky. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, “what do you think, Leia?” </p>
<p>Leia squinted through her oversize sunglasses. “I think it looks pretty good. What road are we taking?” </p>
<p>“Oh, we’ll take the best route, don’t worry.” </p>
<p>Luke skipped up to walk beside him, taking a deep breath of the fresh spring air. Obi Wan smiled as he took him by the hand. Watching this kid come back to the prairies was like watching a bird break free of a cage and it warmed his heart. </p>
<p>“Looking forward to frog catching?” he asked. </p>
<p>“Are the frogs out already?” Leia asked, excitement in her voice for the first time.</p>
<p>“I think so, but I haven’t been down to the river to check. Too busy calving, so I’ll have to put my research crew on the job.”</p>
<p>“Yes!” Leia punched the air, her backpack swinging wildly from her arm. </p>
<p>“Alright,” Obi Wan said as they piled into the truck. “We’ll stop at Pete’s on the way out of town, so get your orders in now!” </p>
<p>Milkshakes and burgers in hand, they left Calgary behind them and rolled on down the highway. The routine was a comfort to him, the kids keeping careful tally of each bird they saw on the road, what family it belonged to, and singing along to his old Gordon Lightfoot cassette. For a few hours, he left his feelings about Qui Gon Jinn in the dust, and things felt simple again. </p>
<p>“Uncle,” Leia asked as they pulled into the driveway, “is your friend still here? The one that knows mom?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan felt his heart drop. “No, he had to go away for a bit.” </p>
<p>“Is he coming back?” </p>
<p>“He said he was,” Obi Wan said softly, staring out the windshield. </p>
<p>“Oh, well that’s fine then,” Leia said breezily as she slid out of the truck behind her brother. “If he said he would, then he will.” </p>
<p>It had been weeks since he’d seen Qui Gon last and her youthful confidence stung. He wanted to ask her how she could be so sure, but decided against it. Leia had had enough heartache in her short life, and he wanted her to believe that grownups could be good for as long as she could. </p>
<p>“You’re probably right.”  </p>
<p>“Leia’s usually right,” Luke said with the weary resignation of one who was regularly overruled. “Do we get the upstairs bed, since mom’s not here?” </p>
<p>Reminded of what was truly important, Obi Wan smiled. “Yeah, I think we can make that work. You two go ahead and pick your spots, I’ll fix us a snack.” </p>
<p>The two of them tore off up the stairs into the house and Obi Wan felt a little tight spot under his ribs. He wasn’t sure what he’d done in life to be blessed with such amazing godchildren, but he was grateful for them anyway. He could still remember the serious look on Anakin’s face when he had asked, how tiny each of the kids had felt in his arms during the baptism, and he felt again the surge of love and pride he’d felt then, looking down on the two most perfect humans he’d ever seen. </p>
<p>Padme had assured him that he was doing her a huge favour by taking the twins for spring break but, standing in the kitchen listening two the two excited voices floating down the stairs, he felt like the lucky one. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>As predicted, the driving was the simple part. The wide-eyed little girl in the passenger seat was more complicated. As they left the lights of the city behind, Qui Gon turned to look at her more closely. It was tough to see details in the dark, but he could see she was scared, her knees tucked up to her chin as she stared across the car at him. </p>
<p>“Hi,” he said, feeling like an idiot. </p>
<p>“Hi,” she whispered. </p>
<p>“What’s your name?” </p>
<p>“Nim.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “That’s a good name.” He scrambled through his pain-soaked brain, trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t sound frightening. “I have a friend who’s about your age,” he said at last, “she told me the most important thing you need to know about someone is their favourite colour. Do you have a favourite colour, Nim?” </p>
<p>There was a long silence. He could feel his heartbeat in the throbbing pain in his shoulder and took several slow, deep breaths, trying to block it out. </p>
<p>“Purple.” Nim said at last. </p>
<p>“Good choice. Purple’s nice.” </p>
<p>“Do you have a favourite colour?” The girl’s voice was a little louder. </p>
<p>“It used to be black, but my friend told me that wasn’t a colour, so I switched it to green.” </p>
<p>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nim nod. “Your friend sounds pretty smart.”</p>
<p>“She is.”</p>
<p>“Where are we going?” Nim asked after another long silence had passed.</p>
<p>It was a good question, one Qui Gon had been avoiding since they’d left Montreal. The original plan he’d worked out with Averross was to take the kid to Vancouver, where they’d meet up with one of Rael’s contacts who would take her to stay with a family friend in the states, but that was all shot to hell now. He sighed. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure.” </p>
<p>Pain was making it hard to think clearly. Getting his injury to stop bleeding had to be the next priority, now that they were well out of the city, so at the next rest stop he pulled over and switched off the lights. </p>
<p>“We need to stop for a bit,” he said to Nim, “and I think I might need your help. Do you think you can manage that?” </p>
<p>The girl gave a solemn nod. “You’re bleeding,” she whispered. </p>
<p>“Yeah. That’s the problem. The blood’s coming out the back, right?” </p>
<p>Nim nodded again. </p>
<p>“Good thing I don’t use my left arm much anyway,” Qui Gon said with a smile, “or I might be in a little bit of trouble.” Carefully, doing his best not to jostle himself around too much, Qui Gon slipped out of his jacket and pulled off his shirt. Blood had soaked both garments and was still running in a slow trickle down his arm. He couldn’t see an exit wound on his chest, so assumed that he still had a bullet stuck inside somewhere. He was about to look around for something to soak up the blood when Nim’s cold little finger touched his side. </p>
<p>“Wow, what a cool scar!” she said, “it makes you look like a pirate!” </p>
<p>“A pirate, huh?” he asked with a small smile. </p>
<p>“Uh huh. Maybe even a pirate captain. Captains are good at rescuing people.” </p>
<p>“Oh yeah?” Qui Gon looked around the cab and, finding nothing to use as a bandage, balled up his tshirt. </p>
<p>“Yep! Did you rescue me?” Nim’s head was cocked to one side as she watched him try in vain to reach over his left shoulder to press the tshirt against the hole in his back. </p>
<p>“I think I might have,” Qui Gon agreed, “Could you give me a hand with this?” </p>
<p>Caught up in her imaginary pirate rescue, Nim readily agreed, following his instructions to push the balled up cloth hard against the wound. She kept her hand there until he leaned back, letting the weight of his body against the seat take over her job. </p>
<p>After studying him for a few long minutes, she pronounced, “This doesn’t seem like a great rescue.”  </p>
<p>Qui Gon laughed, which he instantly regretted. “You’re right,” he gasped as pain burned through his chest, “I didn’t do a very good job. You seem to know a lot about rescues, though,” he added, “what do you think a good pirate captain would do next?” </p>
<p>Nim thought carefully. “Take me to my Nana’s house, I think.” </p>
<p>“Really? Where does your Nana live?” Qui Gon asked. </p>
<p>“She’s actually my mama’s best friend,” Nim admitted, “but I don’t have a Nana, so she gets to be my Nana too. She lives in a big house in the woods with three big dogs and a lizard. The lizard’s name is Jeb.” </p>
<p>“Good name for a lizard,” Qui Gon breathed. “Do you know where the big house in the woods is?” </p>
<p>Nim’s eyes flicked up to the roof of the car as she counted on her fingers, muttering the names of the provinces under her breath. “Ontario, Manitoba...Saska...Skaska..”</p>
<p>“Saskatchewan?” Qui Gon asked. </p>
<p>“Yep! There’s a big lake and she lives by the big lake. One time there was even a bear.”</p>
<p>“Sounds pretty scary.” Reluctantly, Qui Gon switched on the sedan’s lights and pulled out onto the highway again. Saskatchewan wasn’t a little province and ‘big house in the woods’ wasn’t a great lead, but it was the best plan he had at the moment. He tried not to be bothered by the fact that it had come from a nine year old. </p>
<p>“It wasn’t too scary,” Nim said with a shrug, “My Nana’s way more scary than a bear.” </p>
<p>“You ever swim in the lake?” </p>
<p>“Oh yeah. It’s a nice lake, there’s no weeds or yucky things in the water.” </p>
<p>Nim chatted on, all her fear evaporating the more she talked about her Nana. Qui Gon listened carefully as he drove, looking for any details in the girl’s story that might help him figure out where they were going. It was north, or the lakes would look like sloughs, and there would be nothing but bald prairie to look at. Unfortunately, the northern half of the province was dotted with dozens of little lakes, so it didn’t narrow things down that much. </p>
<p>Finally, just as they crossed the border into Ontario, Nim fell asleep, curled up in the bucket seat with her head resting against the door. Qui Gon switched on the radio and did his best to stay awake. He wondered what the mafiosi in Montreal had offered Rael for giving them the little girl, and if it would have been worth it. Had he been brought in just to make it look respectable? It wouldn’t have been the first time. The plots and questions swirled in his mind, racing over every moment of the interaction, trying to work out what had happened as the lines on the highway disappeared under the dash. He had a long time to work through it, but as dawn began to light the sky behind him, he realized he would probably never know. It was just the latest in a long string of reckless betrayals, and it didn’t matter what Rael had been thinking. The damage had been done, now all he had to do was drive. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“No, mama, I promise, I didn’t kill the frog on purpose!” Leia cried passionately into the phone. “I took him out of the water and I didn’t know amphibians could dry out and then it died. It was a really respectful autopsy, I promise!” </p>
<p>Obi Wan could hear Padme’s sigh across the room. “Alright. Well, I’m glad you were respectful and treated the frog kindly. I’m not glad you killed it, even though it was an accident.” </p>
<p>“I’m not glad either.” Leia looked down at the floor, tears pooling in her eyes. </p>
<p>“I think you should take some time to think about what happened today. Let me talk to your uncle now.” </p>
<p>“Okay. Love you mama.” </p>
<p>“Love you, sweetheart.” </p>
<p>“Go on and play outside with your brother,” Obi Wan said as Leia passed him the phone. “Your mom and I won’t be long, then we can start on supper.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” Leia sniffed a little and accepted a small hug before she went back outside.</p>
<p>“How goes the diplomatic game?” Obi Wan asked as the door closed behind her. </p>
<p>Padme sighed. “Oh, you know. Around in circles.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it..”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I don’t think I do. I would like to talk about how you let-no, encouraged- my children to cut up a frog to see what was inside,” she said, a smile in her voice. </p>
<p>“I didn’t really encourage them,” Obi Wan replied innocently. “The autopsy was already well underway. I just told them to write down what they saw. Leia’s life drawing is getting quite good. I think Luke still prefers to poke at the intestines, but he made some great observations.” </p>
<p>“I’m glad they’re having a good time with you.” </p>
<p>“Me too. I don’t think I ever asked when I was supposed to send them back.” </p>
<p>“I actually wanted to ask you about that…” Padme’s voice trailed off. When he replied, Obi Wan did his best not to sound too pleased. </p>
<p>“I think they’d enjoy staying for the summer. Can they do their school work online for the rest of the semester?” </p>
<p>“I feel like I shouldn’t rely on you so much, Obi Wan,” Padme protested with a sniff. “They’re my kids.” </p>
<p>“And you’re doing what you need to look after them. They miss you, I can’t lie to you about that, but they’re doing all the things happy kids do.” </p>
<p>“Yes,” Padme said, speaking carefully past the crack in her voice, “Luke told me that he wanted to be there as soon as fishing season opened in August.” </p>
<p>“The fishing is pretty great.” </p>
<p>“And Leia tells me you’re getting a horse?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan sighed, “Yeah, I don’t want to take a dip in the creek again. My cowboy friend tells me that if I really want to be a cowboy, then I need to get myself a saddle horse to do all the work.”</p>
<p>“Have you ever even ridden a horse?” </p>
<p>“Actually, yes. Not for about thirty years, but I have in fact been on a horse’s back. A few times.” </p>
<p>Padme laughed. He was glad to hear it, even if it was at his own expense. “I hope you’re taking some lessons or something,” she said, “or having the horse won’t keep you from taking another swim.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan grimaced. “Well, sounds like it must be supper time!” </p>
<p>“Oh, stop. You know I’m just looking out for you.” </p>
<p>“I know,” he admitted, “and I appreciate it. You know you’re welcome out here for the summer too, right?” </p>
<p>“I know. I’ll try to get some time off.” </p>
<p>“Good. I know you’re a hard working independent lady, and you need some time to yourself, too.”</p>
<p>“Thanks.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan set the phone down with a sigh, hoping his friend would be true to her word and take some time off. She was sounding tired as hell. </p>
<p>“Is mom really okay?” Luke’s voice startled him and he looked up to see the boy leaning against the door jamb. </p>
<p>“Yeah, I think so, sport,” Obi Wan replied. “Why?” </p>
<p>Luke shrugged. “No reason. She just sounded...sad. We’re being good, right?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan felt his heart crack wide open. “Oh, of course you are.” He held his arms open, and Luke came across the room in a rush, burrowing into his embrace. </p>
<p>His voice was muffled as he said, “Does that mean we’re staying  with you?” </p>
<p>“Your mom sure said you could,” Obi Wan said quietly. “Do you want to stay?” </p>
<p>Luke nodded. “But I miss mom.” </p>
<p>“Me too, sport. Me too.” </p>
<p>The little arms squeezed him tight and, for a moment, Obi Wan couldn’t think of anything else to say. When the boy’s shoulders stopped trembling, he asked. “Where’s your sister?” </p>
<p>Luke sniffled and stood up, wiping at his eyes. “She said she needed to think about the frog.” </p>
<p>“I’m done thinking about the frog.” </p>
<p>Leia stood in the doorway, a picture of utter misery. “I don’t want to think about the frog anymore,” she added, tears still running down her face. </p>
<p>“Alright,” Obi Wan said gently, “What do you want to do?” </p>
<p>“I think...I think I want a hug.” </p>
<p>“Come on over.” </p>
<p>They all packed into the group hug. </p>
<p>“I didn’t kill the frog on purpose,” Leia repeated between sobs. </p>
<p>“I know, princess. Sometimes we do things and don’t realize how it will hurt other people.” </p>
<p>Luke nodded, laying his head on Obi Wan’s shoulder. “Like that time I accidentally smacked you in the face with the football.” </p>
<p>Leia laughed through her tears, then grew very serious. “Oh, Luke, what if I’d killed you?”</p>
<p>Her eyes filled with tears again, and Obi Wan was about to interject when Luke gave a casual shrug. “It would have been okay, I would have just haunted you forever!” His eyes lit up, “Just think, you’d have your own ghost! That would be pretty cool.”</p>
<p>Leia considered the option, her nose wrinkling at the corners. “I guess. Would you haunt me...all the time?” </p>
<p>“Nah,” Luke said breezily, “I’d take breaks. Who wants to watch you do homework? I’d go fishing with uncle, or fly over the ocean and visit mom and tip over wine glasses when people said nasty stuff to her.” </p>
<p>“I think I’d like that,” Leia agreed, “Maybe one day we’ll get to be ghosts together!” </p>
<p>“Good plan,” Obi Wan said, “but let’s maybe hold off for a bit, okay? I mean, we can’t have pancakes for breakfast if you go off on your ghost adventure right away.” </p>
<p>“PANCAKES!” cheered the twins, all thoughts of death abandoned as they raced into the kitchen. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“You think this is it?”</p>
<p>Nim nodded. “I’m sure it is.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon looked up the sloped gravel drive to the cabin. It was framed by a stand of imposing jack pine that creaked and swayed in the wind. The windows were dark, but Nim had assured him that her Nana lived there all year. </p>
<p>“We’ll just sit and watch for a bit, okay?” </p>
<p>He wasn’t sure he was up to knocking on the door of an angry trapper or some other stranger. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he was up to knocking on Nim’s Nana’s door. After the stories she’d told him, Qui Gon was pretty sure that Nana Shakti was the kind of lady who’d prefer to shoot first and ask questions later, especially if her granddaughter was involved. Besides, after a thirty-six hour drive with a bullet in his shoulder, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be able to fend off anything more dangerous than a moth. </p>
<p>They sat there for a long time in the late afternoon sun, Nim telling him everything she could remember about the cabin while he struggled to stay awake enough to listen to her. His vision had started to blur at the edges, with little patches of darkness occasionally obscuring his view of the property. </p>
<p>As the sun began to sink behind the trees and he had nearly decided to go find them a hotel for the night,, a light sprang to life in a front window. A moment later, the front door of the cabin opened and a tall woman walked out onto the porch, a shotgun cradled in one arm. She stared at the car, still as a statue, and just about as inviting.</p>
<p>“That’s Nana!” Nim cried, pointing through the windshield. </p>
<p>“You’re sure?” </p>
<p>Nim looked at him as though he’d grown an extra head. “Of course I’m sure. I know what my Nana looks like. This is her house, and that’s her!” </p>
<p>“Alright,” Qui Gon conceded, “then you can get out of the car. But I want you to stay right here until she tells you you can come up. Understand?” </p>
<p>Nim nodded enthusiastically and leapt from the car. She did as she had been told, waving up at the woman on the porch. </p>
<p>“Hi Nana!” </p>
<p>The woman’s eyebrows rose. “Nim? Is that you?” </p>
<p>“Uh huh! Can I come in?” </p>
<p>“Who’s with you, sweetheart?” The woman’s voice was gentle, but she didn’t lower the shotgun. </p>
<p>“Mr. Jinn! He said I had to wait here until you told me I could come in.” </p>
<p>“Mr. Jinn must be a smart guy,” Qui Gon heard a smile in the woman’s voice. “Come on up, Nim, nice and quick.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon sighed in relief as Nim ran up the drive into her Nana’s embrace. It was over. Nim was safe and now he could sleep. Before the thought had even fully entered his mind, his eyes fluttered closed and darkness overtook him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><i>“...Beneath the summer sun/ That lit our hearts and burnt our skin/And promised days to come”</i><br/>-<i> Seasons</i>, Red Moon Road</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you think he’ll ever wake up, Nana?” </p>
<p>“Oh, I think so. He’s been awake for a long time, you know.” </p>
<p>“We were in the car a lot.”</p>
<p>“Mhm.” </p>
<p>“I don’t think he even took a nap!” </p>
<p>“See? This is what happens when you don’t sleep enough.” </p>
<p>“Wow.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon blinked, coming back to consciousness slowly and with great reluctance. It had been good to rest in the blackness, letting go of everything. There was pain in consciousness, pain and white hot light. His body was there, but it felt a long way off, lost in a fuzzy haze. Distant reports came in as consciousness drew nearer. Stiffness. Dry mouth. Soft sheets. </p>
<p>“Look, Nana, he blinked!”</p>
<p>A shadow fell between him and the light. He squinted up at it, taking in the luminous eyes and dark curls. </p>
<p>“Morning, Mr. Jinn!” the shadow exclaimed in delight. It was awfully loud for a shadow, and he winced. </p>
<p>“Morning.” The word came out as a hoarse whisper, but the shadow seemed pleased with his answer. </p>
<p>“Come on, Nim,” said a second, deeper voice, “Give Mr. Jinn a few minutes to wake up.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” </p>
<p>The shadowy figure of Nim left his sight and he closed his eyes against the sudden flare of light. Mercifully, darkness descended on the room accompanied by the flutter of curtains. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” said the deeper voice, “I wasn’t really expecting you to be awake this morning. You take your time, we’ll come back and check on you in a bit.” </p>
<p>Silence pooled around him once more and he took a deep breath, trying to settle back into his own body. He became aware of dime shapes in the room with him-a dresser, the footboard on the bed, an open closet door. The bed was spacious, covered in soft cotton sheets and a light duvet. Similarly dim memories paraded through his mind, creating a jagged, incomplete picture of the previous days. Names and places came to him in short bursts, along with troubling half theories and conjectures. He blinked, raising himself up on his elbow. His shoulder throbbed with a dull ache, but he managed to sit himself up by the time Nim and her Nana came back into the room. </p>
<p>Nim hesitated for a moment, but when he smiled at her she lit up, scampering over to climb up on the bed. She looked him over carefully, then met his eyes with a grimace of concern. <br/>“I think you’re going to have another pirate scar.” </p>
<p>“Is that a good thing?” Qui Gon asked with a soft laugh. </p>
<p>Nim looked over at her Nana, “Well, I think it makes you a lot cooler,” she said, “but Nana says it means you got hurt real bad.” </p>
<p>“I’ve definitely been hurt worse,” Qui Gon assured her. “And like you say, it will look pretty cool.”</p>
<p>Nim frowned. “Was it my fault you got hurt bad?” she whispered. </p>
<p>“Absolutely not.” Qui Gon surprised himself with the vehemence in his own voice. He took a breath, mastering his tone. “No. It wasn’t your fault.”</p>
<p>Nim’s frown became fierce. “Then whose was it?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon sighed. “I think it was my friend.” </p>
<p>“Your friend?” Nim exclaimed, one hand flying to cover her mouth. </p>
<p>“Mr. Jinn might not be as lucky with his friends as you are, Nim.” Nana Shakti came further into the room, putting a hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder. Nim looked up at her, wide-eyed. </p>
<p>“But, Nana!” </p>
<p>“If it makes you feel any better, he hasn’t been my friend for a long time,” Qui Gon said with a smile. </p>
<p>“Do you have new friends?” </p>
<p>Something lurched in Qui Gon’s belly as he thought about everything he’d left behind him in Alberta. “A few.”</p>
<p>Nim nodded, speechless. </p>
<p>“Why don’t you go grab some lettuce from the garden, sweetheart,” Shakti said, lifting her off the bed, “We’ll fix up some lunch.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” </p>
<p>When the girl had gone, her grandmother fixed Qui Gon with a penetrating stare, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. </p>
<p>“Thank you for putting me up,” Qui Gon said carefully. </p>
<p>“It was no trouble.” She continued her leisurely study for several moments before she spoke again. </p>
<p>“Nim says you rescued her. Is that true?” </p>
<p>“I think so.” </p>
<p>Shakti raised an eyebrow. “You think so?” </p>
<p>“I know that I was asked to rescue her,” Qui Gon said, “I thought I knew who from, but things...turned out differently than I had expected.” </p>
<p>“Did you meet her father?” </p>
<p>“No. I was brought in by an old friend.” </p>
<p>“Ah. Your friend who got you shot.” </p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Does this mystery friend have a name?” </p>
<p>“He might have used an alias, but I know him as Rael Averross.” </p>
<p>Shakti looked as though she’d smelled a dead skunk. “Averross? No wonder you got shot. What sort of bullshit did he spin you?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon winced. “He told me he had agreed to protect Nim from the mafia and needed my help to get her out of Montreal.” </p>
<p>“Sure. Except what he really wanted to do was sell her to the mafia to get them off his back, right?” Shakti’s scorn could have wilted prairie grass. "He's been hanging around Nim's parents like a parasite for months now. I suppose it's a relief to know he really was up to something after all." </p>
<p>“I expect so.” </p>
<p>“So why did he bother to get you involved?” </p>
<p>“Honestly, I don’t know.”</p>
<p>Shakti just looked at him. “You have enemies in Montreal or something?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon shrugged. “I’ve got enemies in lots of places.” </p>
<p>“Hm. Maybe you were a combo deal, then, if there’s a price out for you.” Shakti grinned. “Maybe I could make a buck.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon gave a short, harsh laugh. “Maybe you could.” </p>
<p>“Lucky for you, Nim seems to think you’re alright.” Shakti’s eyes twinkled a little as she turned to the door. “Think you can make it downstairs for lunch?” </p>
<p>“I’ll do my best.” </p>
<p>“There’s a robe behind the door,” she added, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t save your shirt. It was...well, it was a lost cause.” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“Uncle! The phone’s ringing!” </p>
<p>Obi Wan looked down at himself. It was possible that he’d been dirtier once, but he couldn’t remember when. He and Luke had been down to fix fence on the west side of the quarter and had spent most of their time wading through the quagmire the rain had made of the field. </p>
<p>“Go ahead and answer it!” he called back. It was his own house, and he could have walked in, but the ghost of his long dead mother frowned at him from across the veil, and he didn’t think he could take the awful shame of knowing how disappointed she would be. Leia popped back inside and he picked up his tools.</p>
<p>“Come on, sport, let’s go get cleaned up.” </p>
<p>“I think we’re going to need a hose,” Luke said as he trotted along beside him. </p>
<p>“Now you know why the back porch is called the mud room.” </p>
<p>They discarded their boots and work clothes in the back room before hosing off the worst of the grime. They’d both need a shower, of course, but at least they wouldn't be tracking pasture mud through the whole house. Leia, who had decided to take a French cooking course for her summer learning time, had laid out an impeccable table for lunch. </p>
<p>“I think you two need to get cleaned up first,” she said with a frown, taking in their disheveled appearance. “And mama called,” she added with a sunny smile. “I think she’s going to get some vacation time!” </p>
<p>“Yes!” Luke cried, scampering off to the shower, “Holiday time!” </p>
<p>“Alright, I’ll give her a call back,” Obi Wan said, “I promise, we won’t be long-I don’t want to miss today’s masterpiece.”</p>
<p>“Quiche Lorraine and shredded carrot salad,” Leia said proudly. </p>
<p>“Can’t wait!” </p>
<p>Padme’s amusement was clear in her voice when she picked up the phone. “Leia tells me you’re very mucky.” </p>
<p>“I was, but the worst of it’s cleaned off. How are you?” </p>
<p>“Honestly, relieved. I told the minister that I’d be taking a month off to spend with my children. I don’t think he was happy about it, but I’ve got so much banked vacation that he couldn’t very well tell me no.”</p>
<p>“That’s perfect! I’m glad you finally get a break. Are you taking the kids somewhere?”</p>
<p>“Actually, I wondered if I could just join them at your place.” Padme sounded a little hesitant. “I...maybe we could go to a lake or something? Honestly, I’m jealous of how much fun they’re having, and I think what I really need is some time to just...be a mom.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan couldn’t keep a grin from spreading over his face. “Well, I don’t knoooow, this is a pretty exclusive kind of place, we don’t let just anybody in.” </p>
<p>“I mean, I know it would be stretching the rules,” Padme said with a laugh. “I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour.” </p>
<p>“Then I think we can make an exception. Honestly, I can’t think of a better vacation plan. I’ll put the kids to work finding us a beach to hang out on-I don’t want you to spend the whole time fixing fence and weeding the garden.” </p>
<p>“As long as I don’t have to sit through another meeting that should have been an email, I think I’ll manage just fine. I’ll send you my flight info when I’ve got everything booked.” </p>
<p>“Sounds great. I hate to cut us off, but I’m under strict instructions to wash up for lunch. My chef is a bit of a dictator.” </p>
<p>“I better let you go then, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. Oh, and Obi Wan?” </p>
<p>“Yeah?” </p>
<p>“Thank you.” </p>
<p>“You’re welcome, hun.”</p>
<p>Luke and Leia were already seated at the table when he joined them in the kitchen. </p>
<p>“Is mom coming?” Luke asked, wiggling a little on his chair. “Or are we going somewhere?” </p>
<p>“Your mother asked if she could just come stay with us here for a bit.”</p>
<p>“Really?” the twins chorused, faces glowing with excitement. </p>
<p>“Yep. I told her if she behaved she could come and stay.”</p>
<p>“How long?” Leia asked. </p>
<p>“A month, I think.” </p>
<p>“A whole month!” </p>
<p>“That’s what she said.” He sat down at the table, admiring the perfectly plated quiche and salad. “So, chef, what’s the story behind lunch today?” </p>
<p>“Mr. Organa said that it was a traditional day today. We talked about eating different things when it’s hot outside and how, since it’s officially summer now, we should practice making things you can eat cold or raw. So  the salad is all raw things, and the quiche is cold. I had to put it in the freezer for a bit to get the temperature down, but I checked the middle and it’s nice and cold.”</p>
<p>“Wow,” Luke said, wide-eyed. “Cool.” </p>
<p>“Did you get a picture to send to your teacher?” Obi Wan asked.</p>
<p>“Yep! Luke even helped me with the lighting and angles and stuff.” </p>
<p>“It looked really awesome,” Luke added, “Mr. Organa’s gonna go nuts. I still wish I could send him taste reviews or something, though. How does he know how good it is if he doesn’t taste it?” </p>
<p>“I’m sure his mouth waters in jealousy every time your sister sends something in,” Obi Wan assured him as Leia began dishing up the food. </p>
<p>“He better.” </p>
<p>“He always says that technique and plating are the really important parts,” Leia explained. “I guess it makes a difference to how people taste things.” </p>
<p>“I guess,” Luke allowed, “but I don’t think it matters how pretty you plate something if it’s gross. Like...if you made us toasted garbage rat, I don’t think nice plating would make it taste good.” </p>
<p>“Luke, you say everything I cook is great,” Leia protested, “honestly, I’d have to try hard to make something you hated.” </p>
<p>“That’s cuz you’re really good!” </p>
<p>“I think it’s because you don’t have very discerning taste buds,” Leia shot back, though she did look pleased with the compliment. </p>
<p>“Well, as a gentleman of taste and discernment,” Obi Wan announced in his best food critic impression, “I declare this luncheon to be an utter delight. My compliments to the chef.” </p>
<p>“I think you’re biased too, uncle,” Leia giggled. </p>
<p>“Utter tripe,” he huffed, looking down his nose at her. “Are you defaming my credentials?” </p>
<p>The twins dissolved into laughter and he broke character, grinning. “I’d still say it was a winner.”</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“What are you going to do now, Mr. Jinn?” </p>
<p>Nim kicked her little feet back and forth in the water as the two of them sat on the dock behind the cabin, watching the sun set over the lake. Qui Gon looked down at her in surprise. </p>
<p>“You trying to get rid of me?” </p>
<p>“Nope!” Nim’s eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, “You just look...different. Like you’re going somewhere. Nana said you probably wouldn’t stay with us.” </p>
<p>“Your Nana’s a pretty smart lady.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon looked out at the water, still as glass in the evening calm. He had been feeling as though he should be moving on to...something, now that his shoulder was mostly healed up, but he was surprised Nim had noticed. Shakti had eyes like a hawk, of course, but he had tried to keep the same cordial relationship with the kid. </p>
<p>“My Nana’s the smartest lady there is!” Nim said proudly. </p>
<p>Part of Qui Gon wanted to stay longer, to satisfy his own paranoia that no one had followed them here. Everything felt fine. He hadn’t seen a whiff of anything out of the ordinary since he’d been at the cabin, but there was a little voice in the back of his mind that nagged at him when he laid down to sleep, telling him that something bad was coming. The longer he stayed, the quieter that voice became, and he half hoped that if he just waited a little longer it would disappear altogether. </p>
<p>“You two gossiping about me behind my back?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon turned to see Shakti standing behind them, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. </p>
<p>“Yep!” Nim said cheerfully, “Mr. Jinn said you were real smart.” </p>
<p>“Good to see his eyes are still in good shape,” Shakti said with a smirk. </p>
<p>Nim frowned. “Why would they be bad?” </p>
<p>“Well, they’d have to be, if I couldn’t see how great your Nana is,” Qui Gon explained. </p>
<p>“Oh. Well, I’m glad your eyes aren’t broken.” </p>
<p>“Me too.” </p>
<p>Nim looked down at the calm water, then up at Shakti. “Can I go for a swim, Nana?” </p>
<p>“Are you wearing your swimsuit?” </p>
<p>“No.” Nim frowned, “but I could go get it!” </p>
<p>“Off you go, then,” Shakti said with a smile, “I’ll make sure Mr. Jinn doesn’t get into trouble.” </p>
<p>“Don’t do anything fun without me!” Nim called as she raced back up to the cabin. </p>
<p>“Not much chance of that,” Shakti said, curling up on the dock beside him. </p>
<p>“Not much chance of fun?” Qui Gon asked, a little confused. </p>
<p>Shakti looked over, giving him a leisurely once-over. “You’ve been here for just about a month,” she said cooly, “If there was fun to be had, I think we’d have had it already.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon’s eyes widened. “Oh! I, uh...oh.” </p>
<p>Shakti threw her head back, howling with laughter. “Oh my god, you’re blushing!” </p>
<p>Qui Gon shook his head, blinking rapidly. “I just...had no idea that was even an option.” </p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Shakti said, her laughter subsiding into a brilliant smile. “It’s been nice, actually, having a man around that isn’t trying to come on to me all the time.”</p>
<p>“You must get that a lot.”</p>
<p>Shakti shrugged, “It’s one of the advantages of living out here-the unsolicited cat calls have really dropped down to a minimum.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon gave a little huff of laughter. “Well I’m glad I wasn’t disappointing you.” </p>
<p>“I might have been a little disappointed,” Shakti allowed, “but seeing your face just now was definitely worth it.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon was about to reply, but just then Nim rocketed past them in her swimsuit.</p>
<p>“Canonbaaaaaall!” she yelled, launching herself off the dock and into the water with a splash, soaking them both. </p>
<p>“Nimeria Pianna!” Shakti shrieked, “What on earth-!”</p>
<p>“I got you!” Nim crowed, popping to the surface with a delighted smile. </p>
<p>Shakti gave an exasperated sigh as Nim swam out deeper, graceful as a fish. “Yeah, you got me.” </p>
<p>“Did you make a plan, Mr. Jinn?” Nim asked, treading water a few meters away. </p>
<p>“A plan?” Qui Gon asked, shaking water out of his hair. </p>
<p>“Yeah! For where you’re going to go next?” </p>
<p>“We’ve already seen how bad I am at plans,” Qui Gon said with a smile, “Why don’t you tell me what I should do next.”</p>
<p>Nim floated on her back, staring up at the sky for several moments. When she splashed upward again, she had a serious frown on her little face.</p>
<p>“I think you should go find your friends,” she said, “You know, the new ones-the good ones.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon lifted his eyebrows. “That’s a pretty good plan.” </p>
<p>Somehow, Nim managed to shrug as she swam back toward the dock, clambering up between the two of them. She sighed in contentment, looking out at the water with a big smile. “You could stay here, too,” she said, “Nana and I could be your friends. Actually,” she added, turning to look at him, “I think we’re probably best friends now, anyway. We could be pen pals!” </p>
<p>“I’ve never had a pen pal before,” Qui Gon said cautiously, “that might be nice.” </p>
<p>“Me neither! Do you think we’d have to be secret pen pals?” </p>
<p>“Probably. We definitely want to keep you safe.”</p>
<p>Nim huffed, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. “Guess we’ll have to use code names, like James Bond.” </p>
<p>“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Shakti said, ruffling the girl’s hair. “Mr. Jinn’s pretty clever.” Her dark eyes flicked upwards, meeting his gaze. “Besides,” she added, “I think he trusts me enough to leave you here now.” </p>
<p>“It was that obvious?” Qui Gon asked with a laugh. </p>
<p>Shakti shrugged. “It’s what I would have done. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I think I would have been a little offended if you hadn’t stuck around for a bit.” </p>
<p>“I would have been sad,” Nim added. </p>
<p>Qui Gon sighed, leaning back against one of the dock pilings. “I think I would have been sad too. So tell me, Miss Nim,” he asked, staring carefully out at the water, “If I’d left all of a sudden without telling you where I was going, would you want me to come back?” </p>
<p>Nim scrunched up her face in confusion. “Of course!”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t be mad?” </p>
<p>“Maybe a little,” Nim admitted, “but I think seeing you would be good enough to make all the mad go away. Besides,” she added with a shrug “Sometimes pirate captains have to do secret stuff. As long as you came back with presents and a good story, I couldn’t stay mad.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon smiled down at her. “What kind of presents do pirate captains bring back for their planners-in-chief?” </p>
<p>“Probably something really cool, like a dinosaur skull.” </p>
<p>Shakti grinned at him over Nim's head, “Sounds like you’ll have some shopping to do.” </p>
<p>“You can’t buy them,” Nim protested, “You have to dig them up, or it wouldn’t count as a real adventure.” </p>
<p>“Ah, so it has to be a souvenir from the adventure?” Shakti asked. </p>
<p>“Yep. That way you can prove you did neat things while you were gone, and that you were thinking about your crew the whole time.” </p>
<p>Shakti reached into her pocket and passed something small and shiny down to Nim. “Do you think this would count?” </p>
<p>Nim’s eyes grew round as saucers. “Oh yeah! This is really cool.” </p>
<p>Shakti took the object back and passed it to Qui Gon. “There,” she said, dropping it into his palm, “just in case you need to give a gift to that friend.”</p>
<p>Qui Gon looked down at the lump of metal in his hand. It was warped and twisted with the force of impact, but still very clearly a bullet. He raised an eyebrow, but Shakti just smiled, a strange sparkle in her eyes. </p>
<p>“I saved it for you after I fished it out.” she said, “You know, so you can prove you did neat things.” Qui Gon nodded, slipping the bullet into the pocket of his shirt. </p>
<p>“Thank you.” </p>
<p>“You’ll have to write as soon as you get home and show your friend,” Nim said gravely, “I bet she’ll think it’s really cool.” </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Shakti agreed, still looking at him with that odd sparkle, “I bet he will.” </p>
<p> *</p>
<p>Padme flopped into a patio chair, cuddling up under a blanket. </p>
<p>“I can’t believe you just...live like this all the time,” she said as Obi Wan put a glass of wine down beside her. </p>
<p>He smiled. “Yeah, well, I can’t believe you live the way you do all the time either. Don’t pantyhose get uncomfortable as hell?” </p>
<p>“You have no idea,” Padme groaned. </p>
<p>A clear sky of stars glittered above them and she leaned back in her chair to watch them. </p>
<p>“I think I’d get bored after a while,” she said at last. “I like the break, but honestly, I’m not cut out to be a farmer.”</p>
<p>“I’m not much of one either,” Obi Wan confessed, taking a sip of his wine, “but I feel like I put my time in on the ‘change the world’ front. I think I deserve a bit of a break.” </p>
<p>“I guess you’re probably right. What made you stop teaching?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan shrugged, thinking back to his time in the classroom. It wasn’t something he dwelt on, if he could help it. If he thought too long on thin, hungry, miserable faces it was hard to get up in the morning and go on with life. </p>
<p>“I think I finally hit a wall. I was pushing a rope with the school administration and after doing too much work with not enough resources for long enough, I burnt out. I was dragging myself to work every day and I couldn’t give the kids my best anymore. There were so many of them I couldn’t help, couldn’t reach at all...That’s when I decided maybe I’d outlived my usefulness.” </p>
<p>He looked down at his wine, swirling the dark liquid up the sides of the glass. “I could only be heartbroken for so long.” </p>
<p>“I know what you mean.” Padme sighed, snuggling deeper into the chair. “I wonder about that with the diplomatic gig too. I wonder if I’ll ever get to a point where I’m not making a difference anymore.” </p>
<p>“I suppose it’s a good thing you’re not there yet.” </p>
<p>“Yeah. Plus, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the puzzle solving aspect of the job. It’s the kind of life I always dreamed about and, aside from having to be away from my kids, I do like it.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded. “I can see how you would. It’s an exciting place to be, right in the thick of policy and international relations.”</p>
<p>“You make it sound like a novel,” Padme laughed. </p>
<p>“Am I wrong?” </p>
<p>“No, not really.” She sat up in her chair a little, looking over the rim of her wine glass at him. “But, speaking about novels, how are you?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan blinked. “How...how am I?” </p>
<p>“Yeah. About your disappearing mystery spy.” </p>
<p>“Oh, that.” Obi Wan sighed, looking out into the night. “I think I’m alright.” </p>
<p>“Just ‘alright’?” </p>
<p>“Yeah. Honestly, I think if he’d just disappeared without telling me anything, I’d be over it by now. The trouble is that he said he’d come back.” </p>
<p>“Over a month ago,” Padme scoffed. </p>
<p>He nodded. “That’s right. And you know, I think that bothers me more than anything else. If he was going to leave, he could have just told me the truth, and I wouldn’t still be sitting here wondering if he maybe was coming back.” </p>
<p>“Would you be happy if he did?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I think so? I’ve been trying not to think about it.” </p>
<p>“I used to wish Anakin would never come home,” Padme said after a long silence. “When it was good, I really loved him, but by the end I just wished he’d stay at work.” She took a long sip of her wine and Obi Wan could see tears sparkle at the corner of her eyes. </p>
<p>“It was a rough time,” he said. </p>
<p>She nodded, wiping her eyes. “The worst part is that I still miss him. I think that’s what made me think of it just now. You know it was bad, there were all these things that didn’t work, things I hated about being with him, but now that he’s gone...I guess it feels like if he were still here we could have gone back to the way things were.” </p>
<p>“That makes a lot of sense,” Obi Wan said softly. He wondered if his lingering feelings for Qui Gon were the same, fond memories of a time he would never have again, of a time that had never been real at all. No matter how many times he ran over the highlight reel of their relationship, he couldn’t understand the way it had ended. Every time, Leia’s confident voice echoed in his mind. If he said he would, then he will. </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Padme sniffled, pulling him out of his thoughts, “I didn’t mean to derail the conversation. We were talking about you.” </p>
<p>“You didn’t derail me,” Obi Wan said with a gentle smile. “It actually helps knowing I’m not the only lonely old bastard around.” </p>
<p>“I am not old,” Padme exclaimed in mock horror, “At least not as old as you. And I’m only rarely ever a bastard.” </p>
<p>“But you are lonely?” </p>
<p>“Oh, of course I am.” Padme dismissed his point with a wave of her hand. “It would be silly to pretend I wasn’t. There have been a few interns that were alright for a night or two, but it’s the conversation I miss more than anything else. It’s hard to find clever people, especially genuine ones. It’s one of the reasons I’m still hanging around with you.” </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t say I’m clever.” </p>
<p>“Only because you’re humble and hate nice things,” Padme said, swatting him lightly on the arm. “Plus, you’re the only person I trust enough to be around my kids. When Anakin died I swore I wasn’t going to have a parade of pretend fathers through the house. It was just going to be us.”</p>
<p>“I have to say, being an uncle has been pretty great,” Obi Wan said with a smile. “They’re great kids.” </p>
<p>“They really are,” Padme agreed. “I worry about what teenage years are going to be like, but I hope I’ve done enough on the front end that it will be okay.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan shrugged. “I’m sure it will be hard, but they’ll be okay.” </p>
<p>“It’s nice that you’re so confident.” </p>
<p>“I have the advantage of not being their father,” Obi Wan explained, “It helps. I get to see the things that are really there, instead of the parts of myself I wish I hadn’t passed on.” </p>
<p>“Damn,” Padme said, polishing off her wine, “Pretty wise, farmer guy.” </p>
<p>They both laughed as Obi Wan refilled their glasses. </p>
<p>“Hardly wise,” he said, “but very lucky, that’s for sure.” </p>
<p>“They’re both having such a good time,” Padme said warmly, “I think we’re all lucky to have each other. It isn’t like you can go catch frogs for science class at a London prep school.” </p>
<p>“One of many things you can’t do at a London prep school,” Obi Wan laughed. “She really did feel bad about that damned frog.” </p>
<p>“She should have!” Padme insisted. “Just because it’s little doesn’t mean you can kill it for fun.” <br/>“You’re right, you’re right,” Obi Wan held up his hands in surrender. “I was just surprised how upset she got. We had a good little chat about death, actually.” </p>
<p>“Oh?” </p>
<p>“Yeah, it was very reassuring, actually. They’ve got some good skills. It’s good that they have each other, I think they keep each other grounded.” </p>
<p>Padme nodded. “I’ve tried my best to teach them that all they have is each other. None of us will be around forever, and they’ll need to support one another.” She stared off into the darkness for a long time before she spoke again. </p>
<p>“Do you think I’ve done a good job with them?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan sighed. “We’ve had this chat, Padme.” </p>
<p>“I know,” she said, her voice small from inside the blanket, “I just need to hear it again.” </p>
<p>“Yes. A thousand times yes. You’ve given them routine, structure, an excellent model for knowing right from wrong, and more love and affection than they know what to do with. You’re too hard on yourself, my friend.”  He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing great.” </p>
<p>“I’ve had a lot of help.” </p>
<p>“That’s part of what doing great means, is asking for help when you need it.” </p>
<p>She reached up to squeeze his hand. “Thanks. Whenever we have days like today, I just...it’s so good. And I worry that we haven’t had enough of them.” </p>
<p>“Some folks don’t get any at all.” </p>
<p>“You’re right,” she said with a sigh, “I know you’re right. Sometimes when things get too good it makes me jumpy, like it will never last.” </p>
<p>“I know exactly what you mean.” Obi Wan’s voice was gentle. “But for now, we’ve got a lot of good things. Don’t let worrying about how they’ll turn out spoil the time you have with them now.” </p>
<p>Padme laughed, leaning out of her blanket cocoon to wrap her arms around him and hold him very tight. “Pretty wise, farmer guy,” she sniffed, “pretty wise.” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Brilliant sunshine sparkled on the water the day Qui Gon went to face his demons. It didn’t matter how much he pretended to himself that he wanted to make sure Nim stayed safe, he was procrastinating. The thought of walking back up to Obi Wan and trying to explain why he’d been gone for more than a month turned his insides to garter snakes and he had pushed the thought from his mind for as long as he could. It didn’t help that the cabin on the lake was an idyllic place to spend a summer. Long, scorching hot days faded into cool evenings and he had enjoyed his conversations with Shakti as the moon rose over the lake. It was during one of those conversations that she had finally confronted him with his own hesitation. </p>
<p>“Why are you still here, Qui Gon?” Her eyes had sparkled in the moonlight under her wrinkled brow. She had been curled up in one of the deck chairs like a cat, her thick dark hair tumbling around her face. </p>
<p>It had taken him by surprise, as so many of her remarks did. There was something supernatural in the way she knew just what to say to cut through all his walls, right to his heart. At first, he had protested that he didn’t know, he was just floating, but she had only stared at him until he told her the truth. He was afraid. It had been so much longer than he had intended, and his abrupt return to his old life had made the Crowsnest pass seem like a distant memory. </p>
<p>“I’m not sure that I know how to go back.” </p>
<p>Saying it out loud had hurt him, but Shakti had taken it in the way she took everything-slow and measured, without a trace of judgement. Her silence had drawn the rest of the truth from him like a poison. </p>
<p>“But I won’t ever know unless I try it, will I?” </p>
<p>Shakti had shrugged. “It’s not easy to leave things behind, especially things you’re good at. It was hard for me to let go of being a soldier. There’s something really comfortable about knowing that the only person you can trust is yourself, but it’s no way to live.” </p>
<p>No way to live. After nearly twenty years chasing his own tail, one nighttime conversation with Shakti had run him right into a brick wall. Standing in the morning sun, his few clothes packed in a plastic grocery bag, he thought back to her words. That’s why he needed to go back. Even if everything with Obi Wan turned out to be nothing, it was a chance at really living, which was something he had never really tried before. </p>
<p>The bedroom door creaked open behind him and Nim crept in, carrying a few loose sheets of paper covered in crayon. “You’ll tell your friends I say hi, right?” she asked, holding out the pieces of construction paper. </p>
<p>“Of course.” </p>
<p>“I made them all pictures,” Nim explained as he tucked the papers carefully into his bag, “So they’ll know we’re nice.” </p>
<p>“You think they won’t believe me?” </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t believe you,” Nim said with a shrug. </p>
<p>Qui Gon chuckled and ruffled her hair. “That’s probably very wise of you, Nim.” </p>
<p>Shakti had helped him clean the blood out of the sedan he’d taken from Montreal and she’d sold it to a guy she knew who was always looking for good second hand vehicles that needed to disappear. He’d taken the proceeds and found the most inconspicuous car he could. In a big city, it would have been a Honda Civic, but up in the wild north he had ended up with a nineties Jeep Wrangler that made him feel like a character in Jurassic Park. At least it had a neutral paint job, which was more than could be said for some of the things he’d looked at. </p>
<p>Shakti passed him a paper bag when he came down into the kitchen. “Can’t go on a trip without some good snacks.” </p>
<p>She and Nim walked him to the door and stood awkwardly in the driveway as he loaded his scant luggage. Nim was blinking rapidly and as he closed the passenger door she ran over to him, wrapping her arms tight around his legs. </p>
<p>“Come here,” he said gently, picking her up so she could transfer her vice grip to his neck. </p>
<p>“I already miss you,” she sobbed into his shirt. “You have to promise to write me a letter.” </p>
<p>“I promise,” Qui Gon murmured, stroking her hair. “I’ll send you a letter as soon as I get back. I’ll even try to find you some neat leaves.” </p>
<p>“Promise?” </p>
<p>“Promise.” </p>
<p>She held onto him for a long time, and he let her, knowing that goodbyes had no rules, only endings. When she finally let him go and slid down to the ground, her eyes were swollen and red. He dropped to one knee in front of her, looking her in the eye. “Thank you, Nim.” </p>
<p>She sniffled. “What for? You s-saved me.” </p>
<p>“But you were the one with the rescue plan. I’d be a pretty poor pirate captain if I hadn’t had your help. Do you think you can look after your Nana too?” </p>
<p>Nim nodded, her lip trembling a little. Shakti walked over to them, her arms crossed tight over her chest. “Come on, Nim,” she murmured, “Let’s let Mr. Jinn get on the road. He has a long drive.” </p>
<p>Obediently, Nim backed away from him, her eyes filling with tears once more. Shakti reached down to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving Qui Gon a tight smile. “Try not to do the whole drive in one day,” she teased. </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded. “I’ll do my best.” Words of gratitude crowded onto his tongue, clamouring to tell both of these remarkable people how much their time together had meant to him, but a soft “Thank you” was all he could get out. </p>
<p>They stood in the drive and watched him pull away, Nim waving for all she was worth until they had disappeared from his rearview mirror. It was a long way down the highway before the tightness in his throat finally disappeared. </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>“I’ve got one!” Luke’s excited voice carried along the river, followed quickly by fear. “Now what?”</p>
<p>Obi Wan laughed as he waded up behind his nephew. “Now you just hold on to him. Let him have his head, just like that.” </p>
<p>The reel sang as the fish pulled away from the rod. It stopped for a moment, then buzzed again. “Alright,” Obi Wan said as it was quiet again, “now you reel him back in, nice and slow. When he wants to fight again, you just let him go.” </p>
<p>Luke frowned in concentration, watching as the fish tugged and fought against the line, reeling gently every time there was a break. At last, they could see the little brook trout flailing in the water a few feet in front of them. “Now what?” </p>
<p>“Watch him, make sure he’s tired right out. Then we’ll reel him all the way in and get him in the net. Just like that. Now the net...got him! Nice work, sport!” </p>
<p>Luke’s grin was three miles wide as he waded back to the shore with his catch. His sister was already sitting on the bank with her own fish, watching in fascination as the poor thing gasped and flopped its last moments. </p>
<p>“Take a rock and finish him off, Leia,” Obi Wan called. “There’s no need for him to suffer like that.” With a little start, Leia did as she was told, biting her lip in concentration as she brought the rock down on the fish’s head. Luke looked down at it, his face a little pale. </p>
<p>“Do I have to do that too?” </p>
<p>“If you’re tough enough to hunt, you’re tough enough to make it clean,” Obi Wan said. “You owe it to the fish.”</p>
<p>Jaw clenched tight, Luke nodded and reached for a rock. He squeezed his eyes shut, for a minute, but then looked down to make sure he was accurate. When his fish had joined Leia’s in the big stream in the sky, he let out a heavy sigh. </p>
<p>“Wow. That was kind of hard.” </p>
<p>“It should be,” Obi Wan said as he gathered up their gear. “You’ve taken another creature’s life for your dinner. If that starts to get easy, then you’re losing part of what makes you a human.” </p>
<p>Luke nodded gravely as they began the walk back up the hill to the house. “So why fish at all?” he asked. </p>
<p>“Well, you don’t have to, of course,” Obi Wan allowed, “you could always be a vegetarian, or get your fish somewhere else. But if you’re going to eat fish, then I think it’s good to know that you made it as easy as possible for the fish. That brook trout lived free and wild in the river until just now, and had just about as good a life as a fish can have. It wasn’t farmed, and it didn’t have a slow death from sickness or an injury. Its life has gone to keep you strong, and you made sure it was quick and clean.” </p>
<p>Luke swallowed hard. “I think I might have to google vegetarianism.” </p>
<p>“You probably should. It’s good to know about all your options.” </p>
<p>The sun was dipping low as they crested the hill. Orange light bathed the house, glinting off the large bay window in the front room. Obi Wan let out a contented sigh that became a strangled cough as he saw the tall, lanky figure walking through the gate. </p>
<p>Luke and Leia walked on past him, still discussing the possible merits of becoming vegetarians as he stood rooted to the ground watching Qui Gon Jinn come to a stop at the edge of his drive. He was a little thinner than he’d been in the spring, and his hair had nearly reached his shoulders, but there was no mistaking him. Obi Wan swallowed hard, panic freezing his blood as Padme stepped out the front door. He saw her start in surprise, then, to his horror, she strode confidently across the lawn toward Qui Gon. </p>
<p>“You’ve got some damned nerve, Qui Gon Jinn,” he heard her say as he dragged himself through the tall grass toward them. Her hands were on her hips as she stared up at him like a fierce guard dog. </p>
<p>“I know.” Qui Gon’s voice was soft, his eyes cast down and to the side. “And if he’d like me to leave, I will. But I’d prefer if he made that choice, not you, ma’am.” </p>
<p>Padme blinked, and opened her mouth, but Obi Wan reached her side and placed a restraining hand on her arm before she could tear a strip off Qui Gon. </p>
<p>“Could you help the kids get started with their fish?” he asked, careful to look only at her. He wasn’t sure he was ready to look anywhere else. She frowned, searching his face, then gave a tight nod. </p>
<p>“Alright.” </p>
<p>She stalked back up to the house, collecting the twins on her way, and Obi Wan finally dared to look up into Qui Gon’s face. He was pale, and there were new lines at the corners of his eyes. It was hard to believe that a couple months could make a man look so much older. When he spoke, however, his voice still sent shivers up Obi Wan’s spine. </p>
<p>“I’m sorry to bother you, Obi Wan,” he said, “But I wanted to let you know as soon as I was...back.” </p>
<p>“It’s been two months,” Obi Wan whispered. To his surprise, Qui Gon flinched. </p>
<p>“I know. I’m sorry for that as well. If it helps, I never intended to be away this long.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded, unsure of what to say. He had been so sure that Qui Gon had vanished out of his life forever, so committed to forgetting all about him, that he didn’t know how to handle having him back so suddenly. </p>
<p>“I understand if you’re upset,” Qui Gon said after they had stood in silence for several agonizing moments, “and I didn’t come to stay. Just...just to let you know I was here.” He gave a slight nod, and turned to go. “Oh,” he added, reaching into his breast pocket and pulling out a few carefully folded sheets of construction paper. “I promised a friend that I’d give these to you for the kids. Hell, I think there’s even one in there for you. She was very insistent.” </p>
<p>Stunned, Obi Wan reached out to take the folded papers. When he looked up again, Qui Gon had turned to leave. He wanted to call out to him, make him stop, make him explain what the hell had happened in the last two months, kiss him, shout at him, anything, but he stood trapped inside his own body, watching as the mystery spy reached the gate and turned to walk up the road. </p>
<p>Still in a daze, he turned to go in the house, unfolding the construction paper in his hands. Each page was an elaborate drawing executed in wax crayon by a childish hand. The figures in the drawings were all labeled and each page was addressed to a member of his little family. </p>
<p>Padme was waiting for him at the door, ready with a tirade, he was sure, but she was shocked into silence as he passed her a purple sheet of construction paper with her name on it. </p>
<p>“What...who is this from?” she asked, scanning the drawing of a lake and a small stick figure leaping from a very crooked dock. “Who is Nim?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan shook his head. “I don’t know, but she wrote your kids some very kind letters.” </p>
<p>“Mr. Jinn brought us letters?” Leia asked. </p>
<p>“Well, he delivered them, anyway,” Obi Wan said, handing her a red sheet. Luke’s was yellow and his own was blue. </p>
<p>His drawing depicted a large house with big windows, flanked by a forest, complete with a small bear. Three stick figures stood in front of the house, labeled ‘me’, ‘nana’, and ‘mr. jinn’. On the back, in questionable handwriting, was written:</p>
<p>“Deer Mr Obee One. This iz so u no that wee ar vary nise. Thak u for leting us boro yor fred.”</p>
<p>It was signed ‘Nim’. </p>
<p>“We have a new pen pal, mama!” Leia said in delight as she finished reading her own note. “Her name is Nim, she’s seven, and she lives at a lake!” </p>
<p>Padme frowned, still looking down at her paper. “We’ll have to see, sweetheart,” she said, “I don’t know who Nim is.” </p>
<p>“She lives with her Nana,” Luke added, “And she drew me a bear!” </p>
<p>“I see that,” Padme said. “But for now we’ll have to put Nim’s letters away so we can make supper. Up to your rooms, now, quick quick!” </p>
<p>She put a hand on his arm as the twins raced upstairs. “Are you okay?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan shook his head. “I don’t know, I...I think I just need a minute.” </p>
<p>“We’ll take care of supper,” Padme said, giving him a quick hug. “You take as much time as you need.” </p>
<p>*</p>
<p>Qui Gon opened his front door and stepped into the darkness. After doing a preliminary check of the place to calm his jangling nerves, he turned on the light in the kitchen and sat down to write to Nim, just as he had promised. He was careful to use large, well-spaced letters as he detailed his trip back. He’d collected a few interesting leaves for her at stops along the way, and he placed them in the envelope along with a postcard with a lizard on it that had reminded him of Jeb. </p>
<p>He sealed the letter and carefully printed the address of a post box in Meadow Lake on the front of the envelope. With this task completed, he sat back in the kitchen chair and really looked at his house for the first time. Even though he had spent the last few days making his way back here, it didn’t feel like a home. Now that he got to thinking about it, he wasn’t sure he really knew what home felt like. Work had never given him a chance to get connected to a place, he had only ever moved between places where he slept and ate. </p>
<p>Picking up the letter, he set in on the little table in his entryway, ready to take to the post office the next day. In the meantime, he decided he’d better fix himself something to eat. Having written his letter to Nim, he found he had used up all of his motivating energy and moved through the tasks of cooking pasta and tomato sauce as though he were in a dream. He had used his promise as a goal post, something to concentrate on to keep his mind off his nerves and, now that it was done, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. </p>
<p>He ate his mediocre pasta, staring out at the darkening sky. He washed his dishes, dried them, put them away. The bookshelf was empty, except for Spiders of Western Canada, which he never had read. He sat down in the armchair in the living room and cracked it open, determined to read until he could reasonably go to sleep. </p>
<p>He had made it about a quarter of the way through the book when he heard the knock at the door. Setting the book aside, he went to answer it, finding a very uncomfortable- looking Obi Wan standing on the porch, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. They stood in silence for a few moments, staring at each other in the orange glow of the porch light. </p>
<p>“Can I come in?” Obi Wan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. </p>
<p>“Of course. Would you like a drink?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan nodded, as he closed the door behind him. “That would probably help.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon went to the kitchen, pouring them both a glass of scotch before coming back to the living room. Obi Wan was still standing in the entryway, a picture of misery. Qui Gon’s chest tightened. He still didn’t know quite what he could do to make this better, but he did his best. </p>
<p>“Do you want to come in and sit, or would you prefer to drink in the hall?” </p>
<p>Obi Wan started, as though suddenly becoming aware of where he was standing. “Oh! Right, yeah, let’s sit down.” He perched on the edge of the couch, holding on to his scotch for dear life. </p>
<p>Qui Gon settled back into his chair and took a sip of his drink, wishing he could have asked Nim what kind of thing a pirate captain would do next. Since he was on his own, he just sat quietly, waiting for Obi Wan to say what was on his mind. </p>
<p>“Padme didn’t want me to come,” he said at last, staring down at his drink. “I think she’s quite angry with you.” </p>
<p>Qui Gon nodded. “I can see why she would be. She cares about you a great deal, and I can’t say the optics on the last few months look all that great.” </p>
<p>“Yeah, they don’t look awesome,” Obi Wan agreed with a small smile. “Still, Leia was rock solid the whole time, you know. As soon as they got here, she told me you’d come back.” </p>
<p>“I...Oh.” Qui Gon said, his voice catching in his throat. “That was...very kind of her.” </p>
<p>“She’s a good kid.” </p>
<p>Silence swallowed them up once more as Obi Wan ran out of words. Little sounds seemed to split the air as Qui Gon waited, each tick of the clock and rustle of a branch setting him more and more on edge. At last, Obi Wan took a long sip of his scotch and looked up at him. </p>
<p>“I wanted to give you a chance to explain what happened,” he said, and there was such a tentative hope in his voice that it broke Qui Gon’s heart to hear it. The words ‘before I leave’ weren’t said, but he could hear them hanging in the air all the same. He took a deep breath and began. </p>
<p>“If an explanation will help you, I’ll gladly tell you everything I can. Things were different when I left, of course. I wanted…” he winced, realizing that this story was going to contain a lot more uncomfortable truth than he was used to. </p>
<p>“I wanted to get Rael as far away from you as possible,” he continued. “We knew each other a long time ago, and he’s not...well, he’s not very reliable. It was enough that he was prepared to be reckless with me, I didn’t want to give him a chance to do the same with you. It might have been better if I’d told him to leave, but I did owe him a favour. At the time, I thought it was important to pay that debt.” </p>
<p>“When I left, I didn’t want you to have any information that could get either of us in trouble later. I expected to be gone for a few days, a week at most. Rael told me he needed my help to transport a little girl out of the country. He…” Qui Gon paused, shaking his head, “I don’t know how much detail you want, but he lied. What I thought was going to be a very routine transport turned into a month of recovery. The little girl in question is safe with her adopted grandmother. Once I was back on my feet and sure I could leave her there safely, I worked my way up to coming back.”  </p>
<p>Finished with the preliminaries, Qui Gon took a deep breath. “That’s the Reader’s Digest version,” he said, “but you can ask me any questions  you like, if...well, if you have any. If there are things you want to know.” </p>
<p>“Why did it take you so long to get back on your feet?’ Obi Wan asked, still clutching his glass so tight his knuckles were white. </p>
<p>“I was shot in the shoulder while trying to get the little girl out of harm’s way.” </p>
<p>“You got shot?” Obi Wan echoed in disbelief, “How can you just...say that?” </p>
<p>“It wasn’t the first time, though I hope it will be the last.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan just shook his head, looking back down at the carpet. He bit his lip, rolling his glass around in his hands, and Qui Gon guessed they were coming to the important questions. </p>
<p>“Why didn’t you call?” Obi Wan asked at last, “Or...I don’t know, send me a carrier pigeon or something? Why did you just...vanish?” </p>
<p>Qui Gon took another sip of whiskey, knowing this answer would need it. “At first,” he began, “I was only thinking of getting that kid somewhere safe. The last thing I wanted was to pull you into this mess. Then, after it had been so long, I was...afraid.” It felt like pulling teeth to push those words out into reality, and Obi Wan’s sudden startled glance didn’t make it any better. </p>
<p>“Afraid? What the hell were you afraid of?” </p>
<p>“Afraid that I’d been an idiot,” Qui Gon said quietly. “That I’d gotten caught up in the way my life used to be and hurt you badly in the process. I’ve never had anyone to call before, and by the time I realized I did, it had been a long time already. I was afraid you would have moved on your life and that a call from me would be unwelcome at best.” </p>
<p>“So you just dropped off the grid for two months because you were scared I’d tell you to piss off?” Obi Wan asked, a slightly frantic edge to his voice. </p>
<p>“It wasn’t the only reason, but yes.” </p>
<p>“Holy shit.” Obi Wan drained the last of his whiskey. “Then you just walk on up to my house with weird letters from a child that knows the names of my niece and nephew as though everything’s completely back to normal?” </p>
<p>“I know it was odd, and I’m sorry,” Qui Gon hastened to explain, “Nim was...well, she was very upset when I left, and I promised that I would deliver her letters.” </p>
<p>“Do you realize how crazy you sound right now?” Obi Wan asked faintly. </p>
<p>“Very much so.” Qui Gon’s jaw tightened as he saw the expression on Obi Wan’s face. He fought to hold back the cacophony of voices in his head that screamed at him to run, to hide, to say it had all been a lie, to do anything to escape, to hide the truth of who he was from the scorn of this wonderful man. It had been easy, being plain old Qui Gon Jinn for a while, but this had been a step too far. </p>
<p>“And you thought this would all just…” Obi Wan waved a vague hand at the space between them, “Go back to normal?” </p>
<p>“No, not at all.” </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, what?” </p>
<p>Careful to keep the panic in his chest under tight control, Qui Gon said, “I was quite certain you would slap me and tell me you never wanted to see me again. You’d be well within your rights to do so.” </p>
<p>“Then why did you come back at all?” Obi Wan asked sharply. </p>
<p>“Because a very wise seven year old convinced me that I owed an explanation to the only good friend I had.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “You are completely unbelievable,” he muttered, passing a shaking hand over his brow. He came to a sudden stop, throwing his arms out to his sides. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he demanded, anguish clear in his voice. </p>
<p>“I don’t think I can answer that question for you.” </p>
<p>“You sound like a goddamn robot, Qui Gon!” Obi Wan exploded, “Did any of this even make a difference to you? You dropped out of existence for two months, and you’re acting like everything you’ve done is totally rational and normal!” </p>
<p>Qui Gon leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s because I’ve only just realized that it isn’t normal,” he said wearily. The adrenaline was starting to get to him, the effort of holding his own emotions in check starting to chafe at the edges of his composure. “I know it isn’t the explanation you wanted,” he added, “but that’s what it is.”</p>
<p>“The explanation I wanted?” Obi Wan repeated, “How do you know what I wanted?” </p>
<p>“I don’t,” Qui Gon snapped, his patience frayed thin. “I don’t have a foggy fucking clue how to do any of this normal shit.” He stood, hating the way his anger rose to his rescue, burning out the shame and fear. </p>
<p>“I don’t know what you wanted,” he repeated, spitting each word like machine gun fire, “and I don’t know what ‘normal’ is, or what kind of person you thought I was. The truth is that I’m a liar and a killer, Obi Wan. I have been all my life, and this trial period of normal civilian life has clearly been a massive failure.” </p>
<p>Obi Wan looked up at him with wide, fearful eyes. “Qui Gon, I-” </p>
<p>“Just- ...just don’t,” Qui Gon said, holding up a hand to forestall any further conversational torture. The fear in Obi Wan’s face acted like a lance, draining away his anger and leaving nothing but weariness in its place. He shouldn’t have lost his temper, but it was too late now. One more thing to add to the list of things he should never have done. </p>
<p>“Okay,” Obi Wan murmured, backing slowly away from him as though he were a dangerous animal. “Okay, I won’t.” </p>
<p>When the front door clicked closed, it felt like the latch on a cage.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Fall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i> “We watched as the leaves gave up their green / And the wind blew in the in between”</i>
</p><p>-Red Moon Road, <i>Seasons</i></p><p>Autumn fell on the valley as a wolf on the fold, bringing the promise of frost in her howling winds. Leaves turned the streets to gold, glittering in the crisp sunlight. The air smelled of silver willow and sage. Loneliness had put Qui Gon in an introspective mood, and he spent a good deal of his time outside, wandering through the hills and forests, breathing deep into the sense of decay. Hunting season had opened, and he regularly took his rifle with him on his walks, though he rarely found any game worth bringing home. </p><p>He often thought of leaving the valley, of pulling up and moving on, but he could never think of a place he’d prefer to this one. It wouldn’t matter how far he drove, he could never leave himself behind. So he began to lay in his preparations for winter, felling several of the old trees on his land and splitting them for firewood. It felt good to have a purpose, even if he was only putting in time to save himself a chill later in the year. He had a furnace, of course, but the wood felt more intimate, something he had made possible with the work of his own two hands. </p><p>The sense of being trapped had never really left him after his conversation with Obi Wan at summer’s end. A persistent, pointed feeling crawled up his spine whenever he drove by the farm and so, in an effort to protect himself, he drove by it as little as possible, eschewing the bustling, cozy streets of town for the quiet emptiness of the woods. The mountains gave him a solid boundary, reminding him that he was stuck here with all the things he wished he could have become. </p><p>Sliding back into the old rhythms of his life had felt like putting on an old jacket. It might not keep the wind out quite as well as it used to, but it fit well, hugging his every movement. Every once in a while, Shakti’s voice would echo in the back of his mind, a guilty shadow in the night, but he let it go. It was no way to live, she was right, but he didn’t know any other way. </p><p>Nim’s letters kept him looking forward to the arrival of the post every couple of weeks. Her printing had improved a good deal since she’d been in the same place with the same guardian for long enough to learn to hold a pencil properly. Most letters came with a colourful crayon depiction of her life at the lake with Shakti, as well as any exciting samples she’d picked up around the yard. She took particular delight in making his hair longer in every drawing. He hadn’t bothered to cut since his return, and had been required to start tying it back to keep it out of his eyes while he worked. In the absence of a picture, Nim had let her imagination run wild, and his fridge was adorned with several portraits of a stick figure with tentacles attached to its head. </p><p>With little to do aside from hunt and walk, he’d taken up the knitting project the Widow Gallia had given him nearly a year before. The yarn regularly defeated him, but he had the time to be patient, and it slowly began to look more like a scarf and less like a shriveled worm. He worked on it every morning and by the time September crept across the leaves he could wear it out on his early morning walks. </p><p>With the fickle ways of Alberta weather, the cool, foggy mornings gave way to scorching afternoons, and on this September day he had stripped down to his shirt and jeans to split logs. There was something satisfying in the crack of the axe against the wood, the way a precise stroke could sink the blade deep into the heart of the log. He tried his best not to overdo things, as his shoulder still gave him regular reminders that a nice lady had poked around inside it with a hemostat, but today, with the warmth of the sun on his back, he felt like he could go on for days. </p><p>He let his mind sink deep into his body, letting the pull and strain of his muscles take all his focus. The rhythm calmed him, but it could never succeed in dulling his senses. When gravel crunched under booted feet behind him, he was instantly on the alert. Resting the head of the axe on a stump and wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned to face his visitor.<br/>
Obi Wan stood a little way off, wearing his best farmer plaid and looking like he’d just stepped out of a charity calendar for lonely spinsters. Qui Gon dusted off his hands and went toward him, wishing desperately that the last few months could have burnt out the flame that came to life in his chest every time he saw his neighbour. </p><p>“Afternoon,” he said, catching his breath and wishing he was wearing something a little more presentable than his sweat-soaked henley. </p><p>“You’re still here.” A small wrinkle appeared between Obi Wan’s brows. </p><p>Qui Gon shrugged. “Here’s as good as anywhere else.” </p><p>“I kept thinking you’d leave.” </p><p>“And go where?” Qui Gon asked. </p><p>“I don't know, somewhere it doesn’t get down to thirty below in the winter?” </p><p>“I don’t mind the cold.” </p><p>Obi Wan nodded, looking down at his boots. Qui Gon let him stand there in silence for a few moments, grateful for the chance just to look on forbidden fruit. </p><p>“Anything in particular I can help you with,” he asked, after it became apparent that no further conversation was forthcoming. “Or did you just come to satisfy your curiosity?”</p><p>“Winter’s coming on,” Obi Wan said, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued to stare at the ground. “Figured you could maybe use a book or two. For cold days, I mean.” </p><p>“I did finish <i>Spiders of Western Canada</i> quite some time ago,” Qui Gon acknowledged. </p><p>“Right.” A ghost of a smile appeared at the corner of Obi Wan’s lips. “Was it any good?” </p><p>“It was very...factual.” </p><p>Obi Wan laughed softly. “I can imagine.” He swallowed hard, then finally looked up. “Well, if you ever need something a little less factual to read, you’re welcome to ransack the library any time.” </p><p>Qui Gon nodded. “I will. Thank you.” </p><p>“Good.” Obi Wan gave a tight nod, his lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s good. I’ll uh...I’ll see you round, then.” </p><p>“Yes, I’m sure you will.” </p><p>*</p><p>Obi Wan had been irritated to discover that righteous anger was not an animating force that could carry him through life indefinitely. As summer had faded into fall, he had kept hoping that the image of Qui Gon standing in his driveway would fade from his mind and leave him in peace, but he had been disappointed. If anything, the knowledge that the cabin on the hill was occupied once more rolled around in his mind like sand inside an oyster, growing larger with each passing day. </p><p>It didn’t help that Padme and the kids had gone back out east for the start of the school year. The house that had brimmed with love and excitement all year had become an empty husk of itself, a trap in which he could no longer deny his own deep loneliness. After they had been gone for two weeks, he had finally sat down with himself to ask just why he was upset. What had he expected? When it came right down it, what did he want? </p><p>Painful though it was, he had to admit that Qui Gon had told him the truth from the very start of whatever this was. Nearly every hurtful thing that he had tried to stew over had been a result of his own overactive imagination. The suave Spaniard, the disappearance, every connection he’d drawn in his mind had been a fabrication. Even worse, the reality had been stranger and more heartbreaking than anything he could have come up with in his own jealous imagination. </p><p>Worst of all, Qui Gon just hung around like a faithful dog, respecting his space, never saying or doing anything that could possibly cause him the least bit of offence. He had waited nearly a week before coming to get a book, knocking on the door in the early afternoon so that it was too late for lunch and too early for dinner. He had been smooth and courteous, standing there in his jeans and faded green henley like he didn’t know how infuriatingly good he looked. </p><p>He had done everything he could to resist his own feelings, unwilling to give up his position atop the hill of righteous indignation, but now there was the problem of the cat. Not that the cat itself had done anything objectionable- in fact, it was quite cute. The thing that pricked at his conscience and left a painful itch in his heart was that the little orange stray had taken to none other than Qui Gon Jinn, who didn’t need any help driving him up the wall. </p><p>Soft words met him at the cabin driveway and, looking up toward the house, Obi Wan saw Qui Gon’s lanky form curled up awkwardly on his front step. His coat was bunched up around his waist, and he was talking quietly to a tiny orange ball curled up on top of the fabric. Obi Wan’s hand clenched tight on the spine of Oliver Twist. </p><p>“Damn it.” </p><p>Qui Gon looked up as he approached, his face held carefully neutral. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I’d get up but I’ve got a very delicate passenger.”  His long fingers gently stroked the neck of a small orange kitten. “He wouldn’t let me touch him the first day,” he continued, in the same kind of calm, even tone Obi Wan used with skittish cattle, “but cream and tuna helped establish some rapport.” </p><p>Obi Wan couldn’t think of anything to say. He just stood there, mesmerized by the smooth, repetitive movements of Qui Gon’s hand. It was too much to take in this early in the morning. </p><p>“You can take a seat, if you like,” Qui Gon murmured, his blue eyes twinkling. “I finished <i>Moby Dick</i>, it’s on the hall table for you. Good story.” </p><p>“Yeah, I didn’t mind it,” Obi Wan agreed, perching himself on the edge of the porch, glad of the excuse to tear his eyes away from the kitten.  </p><p>“That Ahab fellow really did go off the rails,” Qui Gon said, “It’s a little frightening to think about how far an obsession with revenge could take a person.” </p><p>Obi Wan didn’t think he could even remember what fear felt like with this insufferable man sitting next to him petting a stray kitten. Life was very unfair. “I guess it is,” he said. </p><p>“Thankfully, I don’t think I’ve been that obsessed about...well, about anything really,” Qui Gon mused, apparently oblivious to Obi Wan’s discomfort. “I think it must be a terrible thing.” </p><p>Words were there inside him, but Obi Wan was having difficulty untangling his tongue. Perhaps it was the contented purring of the kitten, or the crisp smell of autumn in the air, but sitting there on the porch, he could feel the defenses he’d been building up for weeks crumble to dust. The anger had gone away, leaving nothing but longing in its place. He sighed, leaning back against the porch rail and closing his eyes. </p><p>“I don’t think I’m up to talking books,” he whispered. </p><p>Qui Gon was silent. The kitten purred. </p><p>“I should probably apologize,” Obi Wan said after a while, opening his eyes to look up at the painfully blue sky. “I don’t even know what for, I just think I owe you one.” </p><p>“I wasn’t aware of the debt.” </p><p>“Doesn’t matter.” Obi Wan shook his head, feeling utterly miserable. How much time had he wasted, mired in his own fears of inadequacy and hurt? What if he had missed his chance? </p><p>“At the very least you can rest assured I wasn’t sitting here impatiently awaiting an apology,” Qui Gon said. There was a small squeak from the vicinity of his lap and Obi Wan looked over to see the kitten pull itself into a long stretch, its little pink mouth opened into a yawn. It kneaded at the jacket a little, then began meticulously cleaning its face. </p><p>“He’s a fastidious little fellow,” Qui Gon said with a smile. Then he looked up, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to derail you.”</p><p>“I don’t know that there was much of a track.” Obi Wan set the Dickens aside, crossing his arms tight. “I think I’m trying to ask if we could just start this over again.” </p><p>Qui Gon tilted his head to the side. “Start what?” </p><p>Heat crept up Obi Wan’s neck and over his cheeks. “I miss you,” he whispered. “I tried to stay mad, to remind myself that you’re a crazy retired spy and I don’t know a damn thing about any of that, but I just can’t keep it up, Qui Gon.” </p><p>He took a shaky breath, trying to keep his feelings from overwhelming him completely. “If we can’t try this again, I understand. I know I said some...stuff, and I can’t take it back, so...”</p><p>The words dried up on him and he fell silent. The quiet was punctuated by a tiny mewling from the kitten, who had leapt from Qui Gon’s lap to chase the grass that grew tall against the edge of the porch. </p><p>“I don’t think you need to take back anything you said,” Qui Gon said, setting his jacket aside and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Pretty much everything you said was true.”</p><p>“But I didn’t mean-” Obi Wan began to protest, but Qui Gon silenced him with a wave of his hand. </p><p>“I know you didn’t. I didn’t mean to lose my temper, either. I didn’t mean to be away from you so long, and I didn’t mean to come back into your life so abruptly.” He laughed softly, shaking his head. “It seems like we’ve both said and done a lot of things we didn’t mean.” </p><p>Obi Wan nodded. “You’re right.” He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where to go next in this awful conversation. “So...what do you think?” </p><p>Qui Gon looked over at him, his eyes growing impossibly soft and gentle. “I think there’s nothing that makes this place feel like home quite as much as you do.” He reached out to take Obi Wan by the hand. “And I think there’s nothing better I could hope for than to get a second chance with you.” </p><p>Obi Wan shivered, unable to look away. “You sure?” he asked, his mouth suddenly dry.<br/>
“I’m sure.” </p><p>Qui Gon pulled him close, and when they kissed it felt like relief. </p><p>“So does that mean you’re coming for dinner tonight?” Obi Wan asked when they parted. </p><p>“I’ll be there.” </p><p>*</p><p>Qui Gon shifted nervously on his feet as Obi Wan chatted pleasantly with the middle aged lady taking their tickets. He wasn’t sure what a ‘fall supper’ was, nor was he sure why they were going, but he was certain there couldn’t be anything good about being packed into an old Elks Hall with dozens of strangers eating food that had been prepared in secret back rooms by ruthlessly efficient babas in identical white aprons. </p><p>“Relax,” Obi Wan had told him, “It’s just to support the local community league. If we’re lucky, there might even be perogies.”</p><p>He didn’t know about the perogies yet, but there were certainly uncomfortable folding chairs and long tables filled with people Obi Wan knew and he did not. He nodded pleasantly as he was introduced to face after face, storing the names along with them in the hopes he would be able to remember them later. A familiar face in the haze of light and colour was a beacon in the night, and he surprised Obi Wan by steering them to the two open chairs on the end of a table across from the Widow Gallia. </p><p>Obi Wan looked terrified, his open, gregarious manner faltering as they approached, but a smile thawed the icy expression on the widow’s face as she met Qui Gon’s eyes. </p><p>“Mr. Jinn!” she said kindly, “I’m so pleased to meet you up on your feet. Do join us.” </p><p>Qui Gon slid gratefully onto the folding chair, hoping he didn’t look too shell shocked. </p><p>“Pleasure to see you again, ma’am,” he said. “And we’d be pleased to join you. I’m sure you’ve come across Mr. Kenobi before?” </p><p>The Widow Gallia fixed Obi Wan with a piercing stare. “Yes,” she said, “I believe I do recall an incident with a dog and a freshly baked pie.” </p><p>“Nice to see you again, Ms. Gallia,” Obi Wan croaked, turning an alarming shade of green as he sank into his chair. </p><p>“I see your honesty hasn’t improved, Mr. Kenobi,” the Widow said, her sharp brows drawing down into a severe frown. For a moment, Qui Gon wondered if he had made a mistake, but the Widow seemed content with the terror she had instilled and turned her dark eyes back to him with a warm smile. </p><p>“It’s good to see you have kept up with knitting,” she commented, nodding toward the scarf looped around his neck. “Your tension has improved a good deal.” </p><p>“I had an excellent teacher, and nothing else to do all winter.” </p><p>“Knowledge and time,” the Widow agreed, “I learned in much the same way. My granddaughter, however, has resisted my every attempt to teach her. She tells me that fabric arts are fiddly work, so I shall have to tell her about your success.”</p><p>“She doesn’t approve of fiddly work?” Qui Gon asked as Obi Wan escaped the table to get drinks. </p><p>“I like fiddly work just fine,” said a familiar voice from over his shoulder, “I just don’t like the kind where you need both eyes and the patience of a saint.” Tahl looked different without her scrubs on, but she still greeted him with the same sunny smile. “Besides,” she continued, sitting down beside her grandmother, “we’ve finally made it to a century where women aren’t kept cooped up inside working on sewing, so I feel like I should take advantage of it. Good to see you out in the real world, Mr. Jinn,” she added, “I thought you’d just disappeared!”</p><p>Qui Gon blinked. “Good to see you too.”</p><p>“You still hanging around with Mr. Kenobi?” Tahl asked, leaning her elbows on the table. </p><p>“Yes.” </p><p>“Aw, that’s nice. He’s a good guy. Did he drag you out?” </p><p>“You’re awfully perceptive, miss.” </p><p>Tahl rolled her eyes. “Oh my god. If you’re going to call me ‘miss’, I’m going to find another table and you’ll be stuck with Baba.”</p><p>“Sorry. Should I just call you Tahl?” </p><p>“That’s what names are for! So, what kinds of adventures have you been up to? I like the long hair, by the way. It’s a good look. Very aging hippy-chic.” </p><p>“Aging hippy?” Qui Gon asked, picking out a gap in the endless flow of speech. </p><p>Tahl looked him over, a frown wrinkling her brow. “Hand knit scarf, jeans, long hair, beard trimmed, oddly stylish black turtleneck? Yeah. You definitely look like a hippy. And I’m not saying you’re old,” she hastened to add, “but, you’re not, like, twenty something.” </p><p>“Hell, I hope not,” Obi Wan said with a smirk. He placed two styrofoam cups of coffee on the table and greeted Tahl with a broad grin. </p><p>“You’re off shift for the weekend?” </p><p>“Free as a bird,” Tahl acknowledged with a contented sigh. “Or I was until Baba roped me into coming out.” </p><p>“You’re part of the community,” the Widow Gallia said primly, “and communities need to support one another.” </p><p>“Sure,” Tahl said breezily, “but we all know I came for the turkey and perogies.” </p><p>Qui Gon had to admit that, of all the things on the buffet table that evening, Tahl had certainly had her priorities correct. The bewildering array of salads were delicious, and the other standard fare of turkey dinner were good, but the perogies were by far and away the highlight of the meal. </p><p>“What do they put on them?” he asked, holding up a forkful of potato-filled dough. </p><p>“Ukranian goodness,” Tahl replied, “otherwise known as cream, butter, and bacon.” </p><p>“If it’s Ukranian food and you’re not sure, the answer is always cream,” Obi Wan agreed. </p><p>He and Tahl, as seasoned fall supper veterans, had been very strategic about their plate choices, eschewing most of the vegetables and the mashed potatoes, preferring to load up on perogies, turkey, stuffing, and gravy. The Widow Gallia ate more sparingly, but Qui Gon noticed that she too had a very small veggie portion. He’d obviously missed the memo. All the same, he was pleased with his selections of jellied salads, a true prairie delight he hadn’t had since he was a child. </p><p>By the end of the meal, he was uncomfortably full. </p><p>“Should have worn your buffet pants,” Tahl teased, affectionately patting the waistband of her leggings. </p><p>“I didn’t get a very accurate pre-flight checklist,” Qui Gon said, raising an eyebrow at Obi Wan, who shrugged. </p><p>“Look, I told you it was going to be amazing food and you didn’t believe me. And anyway, if you can’t take a buffet in jeans, you’re a lightweight.” </p><p>“A lightweight?” Qui Gon repeated in mock outrage, “I’m just a community hall rookie. If I can take an officer’s mess dinner, I can take anything.” </p><p>“Anything?” Tahl asked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.” </p><p>Emboldened by the warm, comfortable atmosphere, Qui Gon doubled down. “Anything.” </p><p>Tahl looked over at Obi Wan. “Have you shown him the corn maze yet?” </p><p>Obi Wan shook his head. “Nah, that’s just superstitious kid stuff.” </p><p>“It totally is not!” Tahl protested. “When Bant and I were out there last year, we definitely saw some spooky shit.” </p><p>“Mind your language,” the Widow Gallia murmured. </p><p>“Sorry,” Tahl repeated, “we saw some really extra super spooky weird shit.” </p><p>The Widow sighed., but continued with the knitting she had pulled from her bag after desert. Tahl leant forward, lowering her voice.</p><p>“But seriously, if you’re up for literally anything, then you have to go to the corn maze.” </p><p>“We’ll have to see,” Obi Wan hedged. “I’m hoping once we get outside, the cold will get rid of that ‘up for anything’ nonsense.” </p><p>“You don’t think I’m a man of my word?” Qui Gon asked. </p><p>Tahl laughed. “Sounds like you’re headed to the corn maze. Let me know how it goes, Kenobi.”</p><p>In a sense, Obi Wan was right. Once they left the heat and noise of the hall behind, Qui Gon did feel some of his natural caution return to him. Still, he’d said anything, and there had been something about the smirk on Tahl’s face that piqued his curiosity. </p><p>“So, what’s the corn maze?” he asked as they walked across the parking lot to the truck. To his surprise, Obi Wan looked away, a flush creeping up the back of his neck. </p><p>“It’s, ah...just Tahl’s way of being a shit,” he said, coughing to cover the hitch in his voice. </p><p>“Oh?” </p><p>“Yeah. There’s a farmer up the road from town that plants a corn crop every year and leaves it to let his cattle out into in the winter. It’s not so much a maze as a place for kids to go when they and a...friend...don’t want their parents to know what they’re up to.” </p><p>“Ah. A lover’s lane type thing?” Qui Gon asked as they got in the truck. </p><p>“Yeah. Something like that. With an added superstitious piece, since some kids say they’ve seen ghosts and monsters and stuff like that.” He shrugged, kicking the old Ford to life. “Like I said, just kid stuff.” </p><p>Obi Wan still wouldn’t meet his gaze. Qui Gon sat quietly while the truck warmed up, thinking through the implications of everything he’d heard. Then, with a confidence he didn’t feel, he reached across the bench seat and took Obi Wan’s gloved hand in his. </p><p>“So, will you show me?” </p><p>Obi Wan laughed, leaning back into the headrest. “Oh, wow, are you serious right now?” There was an edge to the question, a tone Qui Gon had never heard before. </p><p>“I’m completely serious.” </p><p>“Alright, then, mister adventurous,” Obi Wan said, his hand trembling a little as he pulled away and reached for the steering wheel, “your wish is my command. Next stop, creepy lover’s lane.” </p><p>The first frost had come a week or so earlier, and the night air was crisp, but the fields and farms were bathed in the light of a full moon as they pulled off the main street onto a gravel road. Most crops had been picked up, though they did pass a few fields where the swath lay in soft lines, waiting for the gaping maw of the combine. At the end of a dead end road that was hardly more than a dirt track, they found the cornfield. </p><p>“There you go,” Obi Wan said, switching off the truck. “It’s a field. Full of corn.” </p><p>Qui Gon nodded. “Looks like it. Do you think we have to go in to see the creepy things, or is it like a drive in movie, where they come to us?” </p><p>“I think if you wanted window-side service, we should have ordered ahead.” Obi Wan stared out the window for a long time, his breath clouding the glass. His hand drummed nervously on the steering wheel and in an instant Qui Gon  was fourteen again, awkward and uncertain. </p><p>“Seems a little overrated as a ghost-spotting location,” he said quietly. “Not sure what the hype was all about.”<br/>
Obi Wan had been pushed so far onto his side of the bench seat that he was practically out of the truck, but Qui Gon’s words seemed to relax him a little. He turned away from the window, casting his face entirely in shadow. </p><p>“I have to ask,” he whispered, “Are you just pretending to be this naive?” </p><p>“That depends,” Qui Gon slid across the seat until their knees were touching. “Is it working?” </p><p>Obi Wan’s laugh sent shivers up his spine. “Yeah, I think maybe it is.” </p><p>“So that means I can kiss you?” he asked. </p><p>“If you like,” Obi Wan said with a grin, “I think I can probably tolerate it.” </p><p>Qui Gon took his time, giving himself permission to enjoy being touched. It was new, letting his guard down like this, but the more he practiced, the easier it got and the more he wanted. They had been careful with each other at first, neither one of them really ready to trust the other. In his more cynical moments, Qui Gon had been afraid that was all there would ever be, but he had been surprised to discover just how badly he wanted more than careful closeness. He had found himself watching Obi Wan in their unguarded moments, watching for some signal that it was time to move forward, whatever that meant. Every so often, he thought he saw it- a flicker of the eyes, a hitch in the breath- but his fear of ruining what they had always held him back. </p><p>As their breath fogged the truck windows, Obi Wan pulled him closer, sliding a hand around the back of his neck. His lips brushed against Qui Gon’s ear as he whispered, “Do you think the ghosts are enjoying the show?” </p><p>Qui Gon’s stomach fluttered. “I know I would be.”</p><p>“But you’re not a ghost,” Obi Wan murmured, trailing a hand down his chest, “You are very, very real.” </p><p>“Oh. Right.” </p><p>Obi Wan’s fingers traced the inseam of his jeans and it suddenly became difficult to breathe. The next whispered question in his ear only complicated things further. </p><p>“If I asked you to come home with me tonight, would you say yes?” </p><p>“Of course,” he replied with a smile, “I’ve been home with you lots of times.” </p><p>A rush of cool air brushed against his neck as Obi Wan pulled away, looking him in the eye. “I’m serious, Qui Gon.”<br/>
“I see that.” He traced lightly over the plane of Obi Wan’s cheek, hardly daring to touch him. “Are you-”</p><p>“Asking you to come to bed with me? Yes.”</p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>“I want you,” Obi Wan continued with a smile that set Qui Gon’s skin on fire, “And sex in the truck is a teenager’s game.” </p><p>“You calling me old?” Qui Gon joked, trying to ignore the way his jeans were getting uncomfortably tight. </p><p>“Yes,” Obi Wan replied with a malicious grin, kissing him hard. “You’re old, I’m old, and if I’m going to make love to you, I want to be comfortable.” </p><p>“Good, now stop talking and drive.”</p><p>*</p><p>Obi Wan’s courage lasted all the way to the front door. Sat in the truck with Qui Gon still right next to him, their hands clasped tight, anything seemed possible. His heart leapt in his chest as he threw the pickup into park and Qui Gon kissed him on the cheek, but as they made their way to the house he could feel his certainty bleeding away with every step. In the truck, parked at a local make out spot, he’d known what to do but now, standing in his own entry, he ran out of moves. Even worse, Qui Gon noticed. Worst of all, he was so fucking gentle when he pointed it out. </p><p>“Hey,” he murmured, coming closer, “you okay?”</p><p>Obi Wan swallowed hard and, for a split second, he debated lying. Honesty won out, though, and he shook his head. “I don’t know,” he whispered.</p><p>“That’s okay. You don’t have to know.” Qui Gon took his hand, looking down at him with concern. “Is this still what you want?”</p><p>“Yes,” he said, feeling small and helpless in the face of his own desire, “I just...I don’t really know how to do...this.”</p><p>Qui Gon’s face broke into a smile. “Well, there’s no instruction book,” he said, “but if you wanted to be comfortable, I’d say coming to the bedroom with me would be a good start.”</p><p>Obi Wan took a deep breath, feeling warm all the way to his middle. He nodded and let Qui Gon lead him down the hall to the bedroom. They stood in the doorway for a few moments before Obi Wan asked, “What next?”</p><p>Qui Gon leaned against the door frame. “I think it depends,” he said in that careful tone that warned Obi Wan he was about to be very uncomfortable. </p><p>“Depends on what?” He asked, a blush already rising to his cheeks. </p><p>“On what you’d like.” </p><p>Obi Wan’s heart did backflips in his chest. He’d always thought sex was be like a good joke-if you explained why it was good, then it wasn’t anymore- but there was something in the expectant look on Qui Gon’s face that made him feel hot all over. </p><p>“I...um...I haven’t done this in awhile. Can...can I get a menu or something?” He asked desperately. </p><p>Qui Gon smiled and gestured down at himself. “I think the menu is right here. The question is how much you’d like and how you like it prepared.”</p><p>“Is one of everything an option?” </p><p>“I think so, yes.” </p><p>In that moment, the space between them was all Obi Wan could feel. It was warm and heavy, almost as if he could reach out and touch it. As he closed it, he breathed deeply, the spice of Qui Gon’s cologne light on the back of his throat. </p><p>“Then I think I’ll take that,” he murmured, sliding his hands under Qui Gon’s shirt. “Piece. By. Piece.”</p><p>There was all the time in the world and he took it, exploring the way their bodies fit together, every crack made to fit. His skin sang with each caress and the release, when it came, left him clinging breathless to the edge of the real. </p><p>Later, when they had taken their fill of each other and lay in companionable silence, Obi Wan reached out to trace his fingers over the long scar that stretched from Qui Gon’s shoulder to the curve of his hip. </p><p> </p><p>“Did it hurt?” he asked, feeling stupid, but needing to know. </p><p>Qui Gon hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Yes. It hurt a lot. In all honesty, I preferred getting shot.”</p><p>“Sometimes I can’t believe you,” Obi Wan shook his head in amazement, nestling in closer. “You’ve just lived all of this...crazy action movie shit.”</p><p>“To be fair, I’ve also lived a lot of standing around in corners trying to look interested in very boring meetings,” Qui Gon replied. </p><p>“Sure. And then getting shot.” </p><p>“Does it bother you?” </p><p>“What? No!” Obi Wan shook his head, hating the sudden hesitation in Qui Gon’s voice. “No, not at all, that’s...no. It’s just that sometimes I feel like there’s a whole other person inside of you that I’ve never met. You knit, you read, you’re good with kids, you like to chat with lonely widows...and then you’re also this international spy who’s been shot at and is...is...unbelievably attractive.”</p><p>“I think we both have stories to tell,” Qui Gon, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Obi Wan’s shoulder. “Persistent and affectionate farmer city boys are their own kind of mysterious.”</p><p>Obi Wan flushed. “It’s nice of you to say,  but I’m completely ordinary-“</p><p>“Not to me, you’re not,” Qui Gon interrupted.  The words raised goosebumps down Obi Wan’s arms and for a moment he was utterly speechless. </p><p>“I...what?” He asked at last.</p><p>Qui Gon leaned forward, kissing him deeply. “You are anything but ordinary,” he murmured.</p>
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